A New Kind of Trapped
by Whovian123
Summary: Three years ago I suffered through the worst day of my life, which is saying something considering the usual standard of my day. Three years ago I had to read a note detailing the circumstance of my parent's death. Now here I am today, stuck on a boat, being threatened by a madman, and looking in to the eyes of my, decidedly not dead, parents. (Trigger warning: Abuse)
1. Chapter 1

**Oh, Hello. What are you doing here? Probably looking for a Fan-fiction to read. I like to imagine that the one I have lined up for you is pretty good. It is my first proper long story with plot, but I think it's decent. Please give it a chance. I will not blame you if you do not like it, nor if you find fault with it. I only ask that you offer constructive criticism as opposed to wild and confusing flames.**

**TRIGGER WARNING: This story will include abuse and one instance of rape, the rape is brief and largely implied as opposed to graphic. If this offends you, or is likely to trigger you, do not read the story. There is an additional warning before the chapter that features the rape if you do chose to continue and wish for a more timely warning.**

**The amazing cover art is the work of Trooper17.**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own frozen or Disney.**

* * *

"Do you wanna build a snowman?"

The question disturbs my, unintended, nap and sends me sitting upright with a jolt. I scatter royal documents all about the room in a desperate, and blind, attempt to scramble from my straight-backed chair. Sleep hangs in my eyes, but I cast it away as my power rises up inside of me, roiling and aggressive, leaking out and in to the air. In this moment I am utterly uncontrollable.

Bolts of ice shoot from my palms, sending everything around me flying into walls and windows, giving my fear and panic a voice. Where am I? Am I stuck in my room again, shut away from the world, secrets crushing me, leaving me empty?

No.

I cannot afford to panic, not when life has been moving so smoothly. The oak desk lying on the floor is not part of my rooms' usual decor. I am in my study. I am sitting in my late father's study, which had moments ago served as a temporary bedroom. i am not trapped in my room, as my groggy mind had feared.

Casting my gaze around I see furniture strewn across the floor, along with parchment and a shattered pot of ink leaking inch by inch across what must have been a needlessly expensive rug. My stomach itches at my lapse in control; my panic got the better of me for just a second, now icicles hang from the ceiling and a slick layer of crystalline frost coats the walls.

My nails bite my palms as I clench my hands, trying, in what feels like a hopeless effort, to pull my powers deep into me and away from the surface. Down there they rest uneasy, still on edge. I cannot afford slip-ups, slip-ups are bad, and slip-ups are dangerous. At least this mistake only caused furniture related casualties, next time I might not be so lucky.

There will not be a next time.

Anna breaks the startling stillness of my study with three quick raps to the door, and then asks me, once again, if I would like to build a snowman. A quick look out the window tells me that it is far too late for anything other than sleeping; however as I make my way through the jungle of upturned chairs and sideways tables, I know that I will not be able to say no, though I shall try my best.

"Anna, it's late." I complain as I swing open the heavy door. She does not hesitate to waltz into my study, a smile on her lips and a light in her eyes that does not speak to the tiredness she ought to feel this late.

"I know, but-" Her chatter stops as she looks around at the frosty damage my study has recently acquired. "You are definitely under too much stress." She concludes. "Princesses orders are to build a snowman." Anna's voice is worried. I do not want her to worry, but it is terribly late. Perhaps I could humor her for just a half hour and build one snowman.

"You should be in bed." I counter, not wanting to abandon the paper work lying by my feet. Anna is right, I cannot deny that, the level of stress I am under is becoming a problem. I was not prepared for the duties that come with running a nation. I do need a break, or another nap.

"But, the sky's awake…" Anna trails off, looking at me with expectant eyes.

"So you're awake." I finish her little motto and can't keep the slight smile from my face. "Ok, one snowman, just one. After that you have to go to bed, you need your rest." Lord only knows when we will get to sleep. I very much doubt the snowman making will stop at one, in spite of my best efforts.

"So do you." Anna shoots back at me with heavy implications; she knows I've been up late. She knows that being a Queen is no easy task; she knows it is even harder after being cut off from the world for thirteen years and then freezing your county at your coronation. I don't get all that much sleep anymore, I have to work long into the nights filing though trade treaties, signing documents for royal visits, and cleaning up the mess that an eternal winter causes. The luxury of sleep is one I have long forgotten.

Anna reaches for my hand, intending to pull me along the hallways and into the ballroom where we can go about this snowman building business. I panic and flinch, afraid that I am not yet under control. The revelations I made five months earlier about my powers have not left me in complete control over them, but have reduced the chaos that follows me.

She understands of course, Anna may not know what it is to have such a constant volatile feeling about you, but she understands why I don't allow her to take my hand and pull me down the hallways, as usual, and why I walk to the ball room instead of the typical running.

Once in the ballroom I take a moment to enjoy the architecture of the castle. Having been tucked away in my room for thirteen years has left me marveled by the sweeping pointed windows, archways gracing the walls, and ceilings so tall I doubt any creäture from even the most fantastical fairy-tale would be able to reach them.

Anna and I stand in the center of the room, our feet resting against the patchwork of polished wood grain. She looks to me, waiting without words until I feel it is safe enough to release my magic, to let just enough slip out and keep the rest buried deep. I relax my chest and let my power out of its cage, carefully pulling it though me and in to the world. My hands rest, open palmed, in front of me. Frost leaks out with zeal, swirling though the air, and licking its way across the ground. I smile, feeling weightless and content at the release of pent up magic, not having to hold it in and keep it back. I do though; I have to hold it back the slightest bit. I have to keep it back just enough for complete control, to ward off accidents and mistakes.

Anna's awe is written in her features. She is by no means new to my powers, but it still manages to light up her face when it's not dangerous. I cannot let it get dangerous. My hands snap shut and the snow stops. We have more than enough blanketing the floor to make a snowman, or maybe two.

I survey the ground; at least two.

Wasting no time we jump right into the snowman building. We roll up the bodies; shape and smooth the heads, and then scavenge about for the arms and faces. In the absence of carrots and twigs simple things such as swept aside and forgotten cutlery or dislodged and lost buttons become features.

None of the snowmen we build have the sentience of Olaf. He is an exceptional creation, one which I doubt I could ever manage to duplicate. I doubt my ability to recreate him based on how inadvertent is existence is, he was crafted by me, of course, but him being alive is an inexplicable miracle that happened in the most offhand and mystical way, a miracle which now lives in the castle causing chaos alongside Anna. A miracle I could never bring myself to regret.

Anna trips over herself and finds the ground rushing up to meet her. She ends up piled on the snow in the most spectacular fashion and I find myself supressing a giggle.

"Oh please." She huffs at me once she has regained her composure. "If you weren't all magical and icy, you would fall to."

"Not with my Queenly Elegance." I explain, then promptly fall on my back.

After pushing the stray hair from my face, I see that Anna is sitting across from me trying to hide her sniggering. Her legs are splayed out in front of her and tangled with mine.

She tripped me.

She is going to be the death of me, though it is not a death I will complain about. We descend into a giggling snow fight that leaves the ballroom in an awful state. I feel guilty for the water damage we cause but I cannot bring myself to regret it. For all the years I spent in isolation I deserve some slip ups and late night snow fights.

Several hours of snow activities pass and eventually even Anna cannot continue to resist the call of sweet and silky slumber. I flick my wrists at the ground and let the snow disappear. Anna and I part ways with quick smiles, two long yawns, and wishes of peaceful slumber.

I make my way to my bedroom; all thoughts of the unsigned documents lying on the floor of my study have long since been pushed to the back of my mind. The halls still feel unfamiliar to me; I did not permit myself to leave my room for any reason during my seclusion and as a result I still find myself backtracking on occasion and drawing out maps in my head. It is a strange feeling being lost in your own home.

In the end I reach my door, it is the one thing that is, thankfully, familiar. I often ran out of ways to keep busy during my childhood and took to staring at my tall hardwood door, wondering what was going on outside my room, out in the real world. The real world, as it turned out, wanted to know just as much about what was happening behind my door as I did the other side.

In the wake of my coronation I have been asked by countless nobles where I had spent the last thirteen years and what I had been doing. I always brush the inquiries away; I haven't the time to indulge aristocracies in the torments of my early life.

Resolving to think of dignitaries no more, I push through my door and into my bedroom. The air that hits my face is crisp; it calms me, it always has and I suspect it always will. There is little in my room, no trinkets of any kind, I have never been one to waste time worrying about décor, even more so when it is for my eyes only. Empty crisp blue walls stare at me while I sleep, and bare fragile furniture mocks my poor self-control, many a intricate carved chair has been lost to a childhood explosion.

For all the finery and trinkets that my safe haven lacks it is still one of the few places where I feel a vague sense of ease.

Nothing about my bed is softer than a typical bed, but that does not stop me from falling into it and wrapping myself in several blankets. The blankets are incidental, I am never cold and do not believe I am capable of feeling so, yet I do find solace in the tight embrace they give. Perhaps it is that they are reminiscent of hugs, something which my childhood lacked. It is dangerous to hug a bomb.

I didn't blame anyone; it was dangerous to be in a room with me, even more so to come in contact with me. For those reasons, I was never allowed too near my parents, as king and queen they had to be protected from all potential threats, even if that threat was their daughter. They did bend the rules when I was younger, before I truly resigned myself to solitude in the name of the greater good.

Despite all the logic and reason I still regret the way I said goodbye to them. Had I known it would be the last time I would be in their presence I would have risked it and hugged them, but I didn't know, no one could have ever known.

I push the morbid thoughts from my mind; for they will do me no good. Then, with a deep breath that tests my lungs, I let myself get lost in the blankets, they are safety; a place where I can let my mind be free. Where I can relax and drift into nothing. Down pillows cradle my head and in the moments before I drift off into thoughtlessness I feel like a small child being rocked by their mother. Then my senses dull and sleep overtakes me in a wave of comforting darkness.

* * *

**let me know what you think of it so far, not that all the much has happened, but everything starts off somewhere. There will be many chapters to come.**

**-Whovian123**


	2. Chapter 2

**So I have a nice block of chapters written ahead of time, and wanted to get something a little more plot-ish out there for you all to read. Also Oaf will show up a bit (Not just in this chapter). I like the idea of him and Elsa having a relationship like a mother and her son, technically she is his mother.**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own frozen or Disney. **

* * *

I wake up a little later that I would have preferred, though I do enjoy the slight energy boost that comes from sleeping more than four hours. I de-tangle myself from my blankets and stretch my coiled muscles. Sunlight pools through my window and across my walls, prompting my examination of the castle grounds. To my delight I find the world blanketed in snow. The mountains tower above my kingdom coated in white, while Arendelle itself bustles with activity.

I leave the window all too aware that I have work to get done and decisions to make. Thankfully my morning routine is short and simple, all I need to do is wash up, get dressed, and eat breakfast. I am thankful that I do not have to spend endless hours being readied by a servant; that is a special torture reserved for public, or official, events.

Stepping out through my door still gives me a rush of adrenaline. My mind knows that I have nothing to fear, and that everything is well, but my heart worries about getting caught and having my powers exposed. I know I am safe though, I know that despite my powers being exposed no one has left me, Anna is still here and my citizens still support me. As i make my way to the dinning hall my head fills with thoughts of the meetings and courts I have to attend this week along with the paperwork I still have scattered around my study.

I am distracted by laughter, and two snowy feet hiding behind a tapestry of Arendelles seal. Feigning un-awareness I take a casual stroll to the window nearest the giggling and pretend that I am surveying the sky while watching the snowy feet creep up behind me.

"Boo." Olaf's cheery voice shouts as he launches himself at my ankle. I make a point of sounding surprised and stumbling back in an exaggerated manner. The little snowman turns his head to face me with his eyes wide. "Were you scared?"

"Yes I was you're getting too sneaky for your own good." I reach out to tap his carrot nose. "You silly snowman, would you like to join me for breakfast" His face splits into his characteristic smile as he nods. Wasting no time at all he grabs my hand and skips toward the dining hall while dragging me along behind him. Olaf makes me feel at ease, it may be because he is ice and snow, thus leaving him unharmed when I lose control. He is so sincere, everything he says is innocent and true, at least true in his eye; maybe that is why I enjoy his company so much, he will never feed me worthless lies and try to pretend that he is not scared when he ought to be.

Regardless I find myself smiling from ear to ear as we catapult through the doors of the dining hall. Anna has not yet woken up, she rarely does so before noon, and Arendelle is hosting no foreign royals, meaning the dining hall is empty save for a long table with a plate of set fruit on it. I select a wine red apple and offer Olaf a variety of alternative noses; he chooses to stick with his customary carrot.

Taking advantage of Anna's late morning I resolve to finish all of the paper work scattered across my study before noon, I will be safe from the distraction of snowman making. I bid Olaf farewell, but come to a stop at the beginning of the hallway as I hear my name being called. Whipping around with my hands raised, one still clutching my half eaten apple, I am ready for whatever this person may want, whether it is good or bad. I lower my hands and release the breath I did not know I was holding when I see that it is a snow-covered Kristoff blundering through the kitchen and into the dining hall. His hat sits in his head at a precarious angle and his boots are tracking in mud; I do not envy the maids that will have to mop up later today. "Elsa.. Queen Elsa... Please don't go..." He has rushed here, that much is obvious to me by his heaving chest and quick, sharp breaths. "I... Question... Please..."

Smiling I offer a quick reassurance. "I'm not going anywhere; you may take a moment to catch your breath." He flashes me the briefest of smiles before doubling over and spluttering his way thorough booming coughs. I can't fathom why he needs to talk with me, or why he is so incredibly out of breath, but Anna likes him, so I must make an effort to accommodate him and make him feel welcomed.

"I want to talk to you, or rather ask you something" Kristoff has finally recovered and launches right into a speech. "You see, I really like Anna, and well, I think she likes me too, and we've been seeing each other for five months now... I know it's not a long time, but I really do love her, and well I was wondering. You see, I thought perhaps that you could, that I could maybe have... Well, I have a question..." He he trips over his words and trails off into a nervous and blushing mess. I cough to bring Kristoff back to reality; it works rather well as he ceases his rambling and gets back on track. "I would like your blessing and permission to make Anna my wife."

When Anna was young, about eight or nine, I heard through the maids that gossiped outside my door that she was already planning her wedding. I wasn't her real wedding of course, just a silly fantasy that little girls like to dream of, I'm sure she wouldn't even remember the details if I ever asked. I remembered though, she had wanted chocolate in every course of the meal and a towering chocolate cake with lilies and daisies everywhere. The colors had thrown her through a loop; she couldn't decide on a color scheme but knew that she wanted lots of sparkle everywhere. That is all I could think of while Kristoff stands in front of me, staring at me, waiting with his heart in my hands.

"Yes." I couldn't think of a man more deserving of Anna's heart, though I feel regret that is must be me to give the blessing and not my father or mother. "Yes of course you may have my blessing. You are a fine young man and will make a good husband for Anna."

His shoulders relax and he appears to deflate. "Thank you, I was worried I might not measure up to a prince." He takes a deep breath before wringing his hands together. "Um, I also have another question; actually it's more of a favor."

* * *

Anna is up at noon as if by clockwork, and I manage to finish off my piles of paperwork after working out all the details of the favor with Kristoff. It is nice to be free from the nagging in my head that always reminds me that I have work to do, but I know I will not enjoy the feeling for long. Not a day goes by without a new load of documents being dropped off for me to sort and sign.

"Have you seen Kristoff lately?" Anna asks me as we stroll around the snow-coated stalls at the market place. "He hasn't come by to see me recently." Her voice is small and timid; it seems she actually believes Kristoff could ever leave her. To any observer, even a causal one, it is clear he is utterly devoted to Anna.

"I saw him delivering some ice yesterday." I try to lie in a smooth and calm fashion, but am worried I am going to let something slip and ruin the surprise. I have ruined far too much in my life time to ruin anything else. I have to ensure that this plays out as Kristoff has planned, for Anna. She deserves this to be perfect.

"Was he with anyone, maybe like, oh I don't know... another girl?" Anna asks, the words tumbling from her mouth so fast I have to spend several seconds decoding them. Another girl? The very thought of that is absurd. I may not know Kristoff as well as Anna does, but at least I am not blind to how much that boy loves my sister.

"Anna," I stop walking and turn to face her, "you really do not need to worry about Kristoff, ok? He is completely nutts about you. You were all he could talk about when I saw him yesterday; he just didn't have any time to visit you." I want to tell her that he is busy planning the happiest day of her life, but I am stuck listing off lies that won't quell her worries in the slightest. She does not meet my gaze and I know that no matter what I say she won't be as ease until tomorrow afternoon.

"Elsa!" I hear my name being called from my right. "Queen Elsa!" I see the owner of the voice now; it belongs to a little boy, no more than seven, who has just pushed his way through the crowd of busy shoppers. He has messy hair and a stumbling walk.

"Yes that is me." I answer. "Seeing as you know my name perhaps I could know yours?" I bend down to be at eye level with the small boy. He does not seem to have any parents or guardians of any kind following behind him.

"Alex." The boy, Alex, says his name with a proud smile while pointing to himself. "It's short for Alexander, but my mum only calls me that when she's mad at me."

"Alex is a very nice name." Anna adds while surveying the area, in what must to be an attempt to spot whoever has lost this adorable little boy.

I nod with Alex, trying my best to make sense of how he's gotten here on his own. "So Alex, speaking of your mum, do you know where she is?" I can't imagine Alex taking a trip to the markets on his own; he seems far too young for such things.

"I don't know." Alex shrugs as he explains. "I was with her at the flower shop, when a big man with a reindeer passed by, when I turned around to try and tell my mum about him she was gone. Then I saw you, and you're the Queen, the nicest queen in a hundred years. So I knew you could help me."

I know I should be looking for a mother distraught with worry looking for her little boy, but something Alex said has intrigued me. "Who said I was the nicest queen in a hundred years?"

"The girls at my school, they all want to grow up to be like you. You're all they talk about." Alex explains is as if it is the most basic thing that everyone should know.

I can't make my mouth work, I want to say something, anything, even just a simple thank you to make me seem less conceited; because I'm sure that's how I must look right now. I thank my lucky stars that a worried woman comes to my rescue shouting Alex's name. She must be his mother; the woman wastes no time scooping him up into her arms and launching into a breathless thank you. "Thank you so much, I swear I just looked away for a second. He's such a fast one. I can't keep up-." Her voice stops and I notice that her eyes have zeroed in on me. "Oh good gosh, you're the Queen, I'm so sorry your majesty, did he bother you at all? I can offer you some fresh bread, his father is a baker, but I'm afraid bread is all we have."

"No." Anna and I insist at the same time. We have enough food and the thought of taking any from a woman who has so little is repulsive, too repulsive to spare her honor.

"We have plenty, and Alex was an absolute delight, he will grow into a fine young man, I am sure of it." I try to reassure the woman that Anna and I harbour no ill will toward her or her son.

"Thank you, It has been a pleasure your majesties, but I must be getting home." With that finale remark Alex's mother hurries off with him in her arms. He waves at us over his mother's shoulder and flashes us a quick smile.

"Nicest queen in a hundred years?" Anna says with a cheeky smile and a nudge too my ribs. I brush the comment away with a shrug. Little children have a way of romanticizing things.

We keep walking through the city, then, with little haste, make our way back to the castle grounds, and then into the castle itself. I am reminded that Anna cannot manage the cold as well as me when I see her shivering under her thick felt cloak. I wish that I could hug her and warm her, but I am not a warm person, my powers keep my body temperature lower than the average. None of that matters though, because the castle is warm and Anna need only mention hot chocolate to have servants rushing around and preparing some for her.

We continue our casual walk through the hallways of the castle; we don't speak much, just revel in each other's company. Anna takes small, timid sips from her mug of hot chocolate, and I watch, noticing the way her eyebrows are scrunched up over her eyes. She is still worried about Kristoff, that much us utterly obvious from the fact that she is muttering his name angrily every so often. One thing is for certain, Kristoff will have his hands full with Anna as a wife, though I have no doubt that they will be beautiful together.

I wish our mother could be at Anna's wedding, that she was somewhere other than the bottom of the ocean, she would have loved Kristoff. No one will be around to walk Anna down the aisle; our father is under an ocean. They had always talked about that when Anna and I were children, they would talk about their wedding and how magical it was, and how they couldn't wait to see us glowing as we stepped up to the altar. They will never get to see any of it. They died on a boat far away from Anna and me, and I didn't dare hug them before they left. I will never manage to count all the time's I wished I had hugged them instead of that bloody curtsy I left them with. Anna's wedding will still be beautiful though, I will work day and night to give her that. She deserves a day of absolute perfection.

"Anna!" Why is Kristoff shouting Anna's name, this wasn't the plan, he wasn't getting the ring back from the jewellers until tomorrow morning. He is asking her tomorrow night, not now. "Anna, there you are." Kristoff comes running into view, what was with this boy and his needless running. "I've been looking all around for you. Where were you?"

Anna is still edgy and I cannot help but think she may start accusing Kristoff of things he would never do. "Walking." She replies with a single word that drips of malice. Yes, I should be very worried. Anna turns away from Kristoff and continues down the hallway, her heels digging into the floor and her head held high.

Kristoff's confusion is palpable. I am aware that I am a third wheel, but I am also aware that I must intervene if Kristoff is to ask Anna what he intends to ask tomorrow. "And looking for you." I shout before Anna can put too much distance in-between Kristoff and herself. "Actually, she was going to invite you for a dinner, the chefs have spent all day making the most delectable prawn soup." I know Anna ream me out for this latter, but I cannot risk them fighting, or rather Anna fighting and Kristoff being confused.

"Elsa?" It is now Anna's turn to be confused. I ignore her question and wave over Kai who has been following Kristoff's muddy footprints

"Kristoff, Anna; Kai will make sure that you both enjoy a magnificent dinner together." I feel bad for roping Kai into this mess, but Anna and Kristoff must not be allowed to fight, fighting is no way to preface a proposal. Kai is a welcoming a comforting man, he will put Anna and Kristoff at ease for the evening allowing them to enjoy themselves.

I give Kia a desperate look. "Of course your majesty." I feel my muscles, which have tensed during this anxious interaction, unwind. I owe that man so much; maybe a raise will suit him. "Princess, Sir, please follow me this way and you will find yourself at the most exquisite terrace for a pre-dinner cocktail." Kai directs Anna and Kristoff through the nearest door while shooting me a wink; he knows what he has to do. God bless that man, he is most certainly getting that raise.

Then I am alone; alone with silence resting in the air, for about six seconds, then Olaf is barrelling down the hallway, him arms stretched wide, and a smile on his face. I pick him up as he jumps into my arms. "Elsa, guess what I found today?"

"A purple and yellow horse?" I guess the wildest thing I can think of at the moment, enjoying playing along and loving Olaf's unabashed enthusiasm.

"No." He laughs and sends snow from his flurry up the wall and across the floor.

"I give up then, what did you find?" I admit defeat with a shrug and a smile.

"A leaf!" He says as he holds out a small golden oak leaf that I hadn't noticed he had in his hand. It is nothing exciting and special to me, but everything about life is special and exciting to Olaf. I put him back on the ground and ask him where he found the leaf, without hesitating he grabs my hand like he did this morning, pulls me along the halls, and out in to the gardens.

* * *

**I don't wanna be the person that tells you to review, but... please. **

**I wish you all a wonderful day, full a leaves and pre-dinner cocktails.**

**-Whovian123**


	3. Chapter 3

**Not to much to say about this chapter.**

**I hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own frozen. **

* * *

My mission is simple; freeze the pond. Kristoff intends to propose to my sister after an afternoon of ice skating on a pond which has frozen over with only a thin layer of ice, not sturdy enough to support the weight of two full-grown adults. So, this is where I come into play, show up about fifteen minutes before Kristoff plans on bringing Anna, and freeze the lake over with a solid layer of adult weight-bearing ice. Then get out and give the crazy love birds a bit of well-deserved privacy.

I would have liked to allow myself more escape time, but the risk of the ice melting and a catastrophe ensuring is too great, and I will not have this proposal fall apart and be aborted because of something I did. So here I am, standing in the center of the lake, an intricate pattern of frost zigzagging out from my feet to the edge of the pond. I revel in the free-ness for not much more than moments, and then I pull my powers back down, back deep into a sheltered place of my soul. The ice is thick enough now; it is thick enough to support much more than just two full-grown adults. I had gotten carried away. I chance a look around myself and noticed that the snow banks had increased in size too; I had gotten far too carried away.

"Just this way Anna." I hear Kristoff's voice from behind some dense and frosty trees. "I promise you will love it." It takes longer than I wish for my instincts to kick in and for me to launch myself across the lake and into some bushes, which I hope offers me enough concealment. What is Kristoff doing bringing Anna up here so soon, well I believe that he is the one going off schedule, or have I been in my mind for so long that I lost track of time? The more I look at the sun and the sky the more I realize that the latter explanation is the more likely of the two.

"Oh Kristoff, I can't believe you planned out a whole evening." Anna's voice is sweet and sincere, she has no clue just how much Kristoff has planned, and how important it all is. Her face lights up when she and Kristoff emerge from the tree line. "Are we ice-skating? I love ice-skating." Kristoff nods and pulls out two pair of skates from the bag slung over his shoulder. His hands are shaking ever so slightly and I can see the way he cannot meet Anna's eyes. His hands keep coming up to hover near his pocket. That must be where he is keeping the ring.

I should leave, they do deserve their privacy, even more so when it is such an intimate moment between two people, but I can't bring myself to sneak away. They both look so happy, skating around and exchanging pleasantries. I guess on some level I may be jealous, not in the traditional way, I have no immediate desire for a courter, or a husband, but I do find myself wishing for a relationship in which I can be at absolute ease with the other person, though I fear it will be a luxury I cannot ever achieve.

They have started skating now; I feel the urge to protect Anna as I see Kristoff bring up his arm to hold her around the waist. I know I cannot always protect her though; I have to let her make her own choices. She learnt her lesson with Hans; I can barely even think his name without shuddering. Kristoff is better than Hans in all the ways a person can be better than another.

Anna is still rather unsteady on her skates and leans against Kristoff as they carve wide lazy circles into the ice. I should leave; I really should, it is just getting ridiculous now. I don't leave though. The sun is setting; the world is alight with burnt orange skies and long ethereal shadows. The snow accentuates the natural beauty of the sunset by reflecting its blazing golden light, and adding white highlights to the world around it.

All at once Anna trips and is sent skidding into a snow bank with Kristoff not far behind. Anna manages to twist on to her back just as Kristoff lands on top of her; they are both wearing embarrassed blushes as Anna presses a quick kiss to Kristoff's cheek and whispers something in his ear. Then the tone changes, Kristoff is talking, though I cannot hear which words he says, I can assume that he popped the question though, because I do hear the scream Anna lets out and the many yeses that follow.

I sneak off while they are distracted. I am happy for Anna; she deserves a happy ever after and she may finally get a shot at one.

Once back at the castle I ask Kai to ready one of the guest rooms for Kristoff, with the engagement finalized he will have to move into the castle, and I will not allow him to share a room with Anna. Regardless of the impending marriage, they will keep up custom. Though I cannot lie and say I will not be thrilled when I have nieces and nephews to entertain and see running around the castle, if they are even somewhat like Olaf, whom I suspect behaves as most children do, they will make the castle a brighter and kinder place to spend time.

I retire to my study and work through the afternoon, I may be happy and excited for my sister, but that will not take away the paper work waiting for me. Now, on top of all the paper work, I will have to arrange for a party to announce Anna's engagement. I will have to organize food, and countless invites. I will have to figure out who to invite and who I cannot even consider inviting. Weaselton will not be thought of for even a moment, and the Southern Isles will be looked over as well, but that couple from Corona will want to attend, and many others will want to be a part of the celebration. It will also increase relations between Arendelle and many of our trade partners. I am told weddings have a habit of bringing odd groups of people together.

Sighing I pull out some parchment, dip a quill in ink and start sorting out a list of invitees. I will, of course, officialize everything with Anna, but some of this is going to be a game of politics as well as just an engagement party. That is the price of being royalty, nothing is for yourself, everything is a high stakes game.

Much later in the evening Anna opens the door to my study and waltzes in, humming a gentle song to herself. I hold back the smile that threatens my face, and then with the most innocent voice I can muster I ask. "What's got you in such a cheery mood?"

"Oh, I don't know, it's just a really nice day today, don't you agree?" Anna asks me with a coy smile while bringing her hand up to her face. Her hand bears the new addition of an engagement ring, which I ignore.

"Yes, I agree. The snow looks lovely on the mountains." I am just riling Anna up now, ignoring the obvious ring with the intent of leaving her frustrated, I cannot resist, and we are sisters after all, jokes such as this are all but mandatory.

Anna takes the bait my placing her hand on my desk, fingers splayed, and ring glittering in the most un-ignorable way. "My wrist has been acting up though, do you think I slept on it wrong, or is the weather making it feel stiff?"

I pick up Anna's hand and make a big show of inspecting her wrist and hand, she wears a smug face, she is so sure that I will notice and stat gushing. I continue my charade. "I would try soaking it in hot water if it is really bothering you. It should away soon enough though."

I am pushing it; I can tell in the way that Anna holds her hand in front of my face, inches from my nose. "Really, my finger also feels rather odd. Do you see anything different about it?"

"I do." Anna lights up as I say that. "You filed your nails, didn't you?" I feel just a bit bad as I see Anna deflate. I suppose I have put her though enough of this. "Also you have an engagement ring."

The reaction is instantaneous; Anna grabs my wrists and pulls me up and out of my chair, then swings me around in a circle, which is followed by an all-consuming hug. "Can you believe it, me, engaged!" Anna is finally able to start gushing now, everything she has wanted to shout from the moment she walked into the room. I will not be able to get a word in edgewise, so I do not try. I just let her say what she needs to say, and what I want to hear. That she is happy. She has never been so thrilled and excited in her entire life.

We stay up rather late, we talk, we laugh, and we enjoy life with all its spenders. We are close, the closest we have ever been in thirteen and a half years. I revel in the joy filled glow Anna lets off, she is so content, she is content in all aspects of her life and I can see it in the way she carries herself and in the way she laughs and smiles without that sad undertone that would sometimes creep in.

"He was so cute, all blushes and smiles, he even packed me a picnic." Anna is explaining every miniscule detail of the afternoon too me, starting from the ice-skating and then all the way through to the after proposal picnic. I don't tell her I was watching the first half, I don't suspect that I ever will. What Anna does with Kristoff is her own business, though I make it clear to Anna that she and Kristoff are to stay in separate bedrooms until their wedding night. She understands, of course, though I sense she may be a little disgruntled by it. It is not as if they will have to remain separated for long, if everything works out and goes smoothly the wedding could be within a month or two, if Anna and Kristoff so desired.

I feel a certain amount of relief knowing that I will be able to forgo marrying and producing an heir if I wish. I am not opposed to the idea of marriage, but I cannot fathom a situation where I could manage to be close enough with someone to manage producing an heir. With Anna and Kristoff's wedding all of Arendelle will turn to them for a future heir and I will be happy to have the pressure taken from me.

The conversation migrates to wedding planning, and which kind of cake they will have, and all the people Anna wants to invite. She has some unreasonable and farfetched ideas, but I intend to pull some strings and use my status as queen to make things easier. I don't like to exploit my power, but for Anna I would do anything.

It worries me to a vague extent just how much I would do, and how much I would endure for Anna, she is the most important person in my world. I have to protect her in the absence of our parents, and I have to love her in the absence of our parents. I know I cannot ever take away the sting of lost family, but I can do my best to mask the pain, and cushion the overwhelming sadness that follows when it comes rushing over you, and for confusing and unexplainable reasons all you can see is their faces, and all you can hear are their screams as they are dragged to the unforgiving sea bead.

I do see Anna looking sad some days, and every so often I will find her curled up under a desk or behind a bookcase with puffy eyes and a tear slicked face. The sobs are always quiet, and that make it worse. Quiet sobs are the ones that you could never keep in, no matter how strong your resolve. When someone is crying silently it is because they don't know what else to do, so I never offer words of encouragement, or give her false smiles. I respect Anna too much to do anything other than hold her while her body rocks with sobs, and stroke her hair as she convulses and hiccups.

Anna is happy today though, and I will do my up most to keep her so.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi, how are you? I hope you answered positively because I quite like you, yes you. Not really much to say about this one, the end probably wont shock you too much, its not really a big thing, or a cliff hanger. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or Disney. **

* * *

Fear, I feel fear. It is unjust fear, but fear none the less. I have just been notified that an unidentified ship is sailing toward Arendelle. It will not dock until the afternoon, and that will leave them with plenty of time to raise a flag, but I am still nervous regardless.

Of all the days for a ship to show up unannounced and without identification is has to be the day of my sister's engagement party. I random threat never presents itself on days where I have no plans other than enjoying the views of the distant mountains.

Against my better judgment I resolve to ignore the ship. It is not as if I have any grounds to be worried. I imagine the conversation I would have with Anna.

"_Anna, there is a scary ship." _

"_Elsa, you're nutts, that's nothing to be worried about, it's a boat, not a demon."_

"_I know that, but I have a really bad feeling about it."_

"_Elsa, it's my engagement party, don't ruin this like you did with the last party, or do you not remember how badly you ruined your coronation?" _

The Anna in my head is often rather mean and cutting in her remarks, far more so than the Anna that is sliding down the hallway, grabbing on to my hand and tugging me through hallways. She has been all smiles and giggles today. She looks as if she is jumping from cloud to cloud, and in this moment I know, not a thing in the world can bring her down, not even an ominous ship.

Come to think about it I realize that Anna is up unusually early. I guess that is what happens when one is exceptionally excited about the day; they wake up early in hope that the morning will be better than any other typical morning, simply because they have special plans later in the day. It is a rather unusual practice, but if it gets Anna to wake up without complaining I will let it be.

Anna and I come to a skidding halt in front of the main castle doors. "I can't decide whether or not I should go outside, or stay inside." She confesses.

"Isn't it rather arbitrary?" I ask with an eyebrow raised.

"No its not, or maybe it is, but if I go outside then I can't go inside again. Well I can, but I can't un go outside, once I've gone outside everyone will know that I've gone outside and if outside leaves me everyone will know and laugh." Anna finishes rather rushed and determined.

I understand what she means to say, and reassure her with a small smile, and a few words. "Kristoff loves you Anna, he is not Hans and he will not leave you." Anna swallows, and nods. Everything that is arbitrary and everything that is a choice which she can make, will feel more important than usual today, because so much of what is about to happen to her will fall out of her control. She closes her eyes and shoves against the doors, they yield and drag across the ground as we step out into the day together. The weather is nice, nothing special, but it has been far worse before. The snow is pure and white with skeletal trees gracing the walkway out in to the city.

Anna rather nervous, I can see it in her eyes, and in the way she walks. Her feet take timid steps and her eyes hold specks of fear behind a façade of calmness. "You'll do beautifully."

Anna whirls around. "What?" She stumbles through the word, confused by my sudden complement.

"I said." I take several steps forward and pull her into a hug. "You will do beautifully." I feel her tense body against mine, she is so tiny. Her breathing is quick and shallow; she is far more worried than she lets on. It feels wrong to put my sister out in public and then tell the world that she will be getting married, she is going to be bombarded by dukes and earls, princes and princesses, and even a few kings and queens, all trying to get the details of the courtship and the proposal. It has been rather startling for me to realize just how much nobility likes to gossip.

Alas I have to do it; regardless I have given Anna enough tips and tricks to last through a lifetime of questions. She is strong too, far stronger than anyone gives her credit for, far stronger than I could ever hope to be. "But how can I ever compare to you and Mother?" Anna mumbles the question into my embrace. It takes me several seconds to comprehend what she is asking, and then when I do it baffles me.

"Anna, I don't know why you could ever think you fall flat next to Mother or me." I struggle a little, trying to find the right words for such a left field question. "You are your own person, and that person is so very you, not me, not mother, just you."

Anna mumbles something that sounds like resentful agreement. I cannot contain a slight chuckle as she pulls away from the hug. She is so Anna in every aspect of her personality, and everyone who meets her loves her. I briefly debate on whether or not now is a good time to tell her she has been getting a lot of attention from other royals, and no less than four requests for her hand in marriage have been sent to me this month alone, all of which I replied to with rejection letters. I decide against it.

I worry about Anna sometimes, I worry that she sells herself short. She seems stuck in a world where she is a disappointing spare, and I cannot figure out how to show her she is not. She deserves the best. The best happens to be waving to her from the stable he had just emerged from. Anna's face lights up the way it always does when she sees Kristoff, and then she's off like a bullet shouting apologies at me and promising to spend time together later. I do not mind Anna's preference to Kristoff. It makes sense; she did not have to spend thirteen years knocking on his door without an answer. I gave away claim to being Anna's favorite a long time ago.

I meander back into the castle and through the halls, exploring places I had yet to find the time to explore. I cannot fathom the time and effort the must have gone in to some of the paintings and tapestries that grace the walls in so many rooms.

I need to waste time, there is far too much of it before the party, and I am far too restless to sit down in my study and work. Though now that I remember just how much work I have to do I feel the need to pick up a quill and toil my way through the trade agreements; I suppose one of the requirements of being queen is the sacrifice of any spare time whatsoever, and total dedication to working day and night.

I cave as I always do and spend all of midday in my study, not emerging from my catatonic state of labour until I hear a timid knock on my door. The servants know not to interrupt me when I am in my study, so that leaves two possibilities for the identity of whomever is outside the door. Kristoff or Anna, given that I do not expect Kristoff to fancy a quick visit with me I am not surprised when I swing open the door to reveal Anna's face, though I am rather startled by the state of her hair. It is stuck up in every direction imaginable and all tangled into a rather intimidating nest.

"Elsa I need help" Anna's voice is broken and desperate.

"Oh my, what happened, are you ok?" I ask, confused and worried.

"I can't get my hair to coöperate."

My lungs deflate and I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Hair was manageable; I had jumped to far worse conclusions than unruly hair. "Anna." I intend to tease her about her unorthodox reaction to something so small, but her face makes the words catch on my tongue. "Anna, come in. I'll fix your hair."

Anna steps through the door way and into my study, her hands are clenched at her side, with one holding a hair brush, and her knees don't manage to bend enough as she walks to the chair I had worked in several moments ago. I notice a trembling in her hands, a trembling I am all too familiar with in my own hands, as she offers up the hair brush.

I take the brush and grip the handle with loose fingers, her hair is soft and easy to fix, she just gets herself so worked up. If Anna took a moment to breathe and relax she would find that a lot of everyday tasks became much simpler.

I cannot see Anna's face, but from the tense state of her shoulders and the sharp silence that has settled into the room I can only guess that she is not wearing a calm expression. I do not know what to say, how can I help her? I have not been around a scared Anna before, not when I was a bystander instead of the instigator.

My mouth hangs open and I try to force comforting words out of it, but they stay buried deep in my heart, scared of ever seeing the light of day, afraid that they will sound hollow and false. Thankfully I do not have to break the silence, Anna does it for me. "I'm scared Elsa."

"Anna you don't have anyth-." I try to tell her how little she has to be afraid of.

"No, not that kind of scared." Anna insists. "I'm worried that everyone will forget that Mum is meant to be at my wedding. I know it doesn't make much sense, but she's missing and Dad is too. I know it was so long ago, but… It's not right." Anna's voice has gone high in the way that warns of tears.

I feel my own eyes grow damp at the mention of our parents. Anna is right, they should be here, it should be our mother fixing up Anna's hair, not me, and it should be Father whom is asked to give his blessing, not me. It is me though; it is Anna and I against the world. "Anna, nothing can bring them back, but we can remember them, and continue to love them. They will always be our parents, whether they are around to remind us or not." Anna is silent after that, though I can tell she is not content with my response, even I am not content with my response.

I tie Anna's hair into a final sweeping circle, and smooth out a few kinks. She stands up and asks me how she looks. Only now do I realize that she is already wearing the dress that has been made for the party. She looks so adult and elegant, though I know she is not the latter. "You look amazing." I tell her. She smiles weakly at me.

"Really?"

"Beautiful, Kristoff is lucky to have you." I answer her disbelief and am reward with a crushing hug that makes me smile.

We spend the rest of the time before the party talking and chatting about inconsequential things. Not until then the sun starts to kiss the horizon do we begin to make our way to the ballroom to start the party and welcome the guests.

Everything goes as smooth as anyone could have dared hoped. Kristoff and Anna are both glowing as they announce their engagement, with Anna tripping once and Kristoff having the reflexes to catch her before anyone notices. Not all is good though, they have to sit through an endless looking line of congratulations. I manage to avoid questions, seeing as I am less relevant in the current situation that Kristoff and Anna, which I am rather grateful for seeing as Kai had appeared out of nowhere and is rambling on about "urgent matters".

I sneak out of the ballroom and follow Kai down a hallway before I get the "urgent news" out of him. "Your majesty, I regret to inform you that your presence is required at the ports." Kai speaks with a quick and quiet tone.

"Is it about the ship from earlier?" I ask, worry floods through all of my thoughts. I cannot afford a crisis today, not during Anna's engagement party.

Kai nods in a short stiff motion, and a dark look enters his eyes. "The ship stopped short of the docks and sent a rowboat ashore. There was one man in the rowboat, and he demanded you join him back on the ship. Naturally the harbour men were hesitant, so one man volunteered to take your place and he went back to the ship, where he is being held hostage."

A hostage situation, how do I manage this, do a go aboard and try to negotiate? I suppose so; I cannot let an innocent man die because he tried to keep me safe. "OK, how do we proceed?"

"That's what I am here to ask you your majesty."

Of course, I am queen, I have the highest authority, and I should know how to deal with this. "Have they specified what they want?"

"They claim they only want your presence, to discuss political matters." Kai's voice trails off in a way that suggests he believes them to have far more violent intentions.

I know that I have to do what they ask of me. I cannot tell an innocent man be killed when his captors are after me. If I refuse to discuss 'political matters' with them they may declare war on Arendelle, I will not have my nation go to war within the first year of my reign, and I will not have to tell the man's family that i watched as his throat was slit. I steel my resolve, and desperately trying to quell the storm that wants to break free and wreak havoc. "Take me to the docks." My voice sounds far more assured than I feel.

As we rush through darkened streets toward the docks, and I feel a stinging guilt at having abandoned Anna during her party. Deciding that it does not matter I tug my arms around my waist, keeping my powers inside, pulling them in to that deep sheltered place where emotions do not exist. My feet and nose realize we have reached the docks before my head, due to the uneven feel of the wooden slats, and the tainted sea air. Several harbour workers tip their hats and address me as I approach the grouping of my people and a man in a rowboat.

The man in the rowboat is grimy and short, his hair is long and clearly neglected. "Finally, we're getting somewhere. No more of this awful 'I'll take the Queen place.' We only care about the real deal chaps." His voice is rough and unnerving.

The Kai helps me in to the rowboat; which is particularly difficult due to the dress I am wearing, which was meant only for Anna's party. He offers me a curt nod as the boat is pushed from the dock. The grimy man wastes no time in picking up his oars and rowing us out to the rather menacing boat. I do not attempt any sort of conversation and neither does the man, I am here with one purpose and one purpose only: To make sure none of my citizens are killed.

We reach the boat and the man speaks up. "Get up your majesty, a rope ladder is the best you're gonna get." He gestures to a frail looking looping rope ladder. I give the man a curt nod and start pulling myself up. It is an undignified ascent which involves my hands slipping often and my feet fighting for purchase of any sort on a slick rope. With one motion a loose grip with both of my hands and start falling toward the ocean, which I am sure I will sink to the bottom of with all the clothing I have on that will become waterlogged. However I stop moving as a hand shoots out a jerks around my wrist causing a stinging pain in the joint.

"Careful Elsa, I need you alive." A voice says, a voice dripping with smug arrogance. A voice that makes my blood run cold and makes me wish I had fallen to in to the ocean instead of just dangling here, my arm stretching and threatening to leave it joint. Tilting my head upwards my suspicions are confirmed, for I am now looking into the chilling green eyes of Prince Hans.

* * *

**For anyone wondering if Hans and Elsa are going to get together. NO. Never ever will i let them get together, He tried to behead her while she wept over the sister she thought she had killed, because of his lies. **

**So reviews? **

**-Whovian123**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hullo all, hope you are having a wonderful day, I am having a pretty tiring day seeing as I am minutes away from boarding a plane, pretty fun eh? So I will be without internet for a while ( a week or so) so i wont be updating with the speed of before, but i'm going to try and update once or twice while on vacation. This chapter is a bit shorter, but I really wanted to end it where it ends, so i hope to make up for the shortness with a few longer chapters after this one.**

**Please enjoy, we really break in to the plot this time round. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or Disney. **

* * *

Hans hoists me up on to the deck of what I am assuming is his boat. Now it makes so much sense, my apprehension of the boat. I was right to be worried, I was right to think bad things were bring brought on this ship. I the boat was not a daemon, but it carries one, one that goes by the name of Hans. I wench my wrist out of his grasp the moment I feel my shoes hit the floor. "You animal." I shout. "What the hell are you doing back in my country?" I no longer care about my mission, or keeping the peace, in this moment I would trade the harbour master's life for a dagger to drive through Hans's heart. Then I remember; ice is sharp.

My hands fly out in front of me and I let all of my anger out in a furious blast of sleet. Hans falls to the ground and I am standing over him with my hands at his throat, threatening to sever his neck if he so much as twitches. Then I am being pulled back by strong and aggressive hands, despite my kicking and screaming. I let out an enormous surge of ice which coats the deck and sends everyone around me to the ground. "I want answers now." I whisper threateningly in Hans's ear.

He clamors to his feet. "You have got to stop being such a frigid bitch, or you might not get back any of the hostages." His voice is cutting and angry. I shouldn't have been so aggressive; I may have just cost an innocent man his life. I take a step back and ask that the harbour master be freed. "Bring him out." has says as he points to one of the men who tried to restrain me earlier. The man, who bears a nasty looking scar on his face and a lumber gait, disappears in to the hull of the ship, and then a moment later reappears behind a man bound in rope.

I rush forward and start working at the knots by his hands, desperate to get this man back to shore, with his family, and with a significant raise. As I pull the gag away from his mouth he launches in to warnings. "Your majesty, do not worry about me, you should not be here. Run. Run while you still stand a chance." I admire is bravery, but know that this is my battle and not his.

"Hush now, I will not be leaving you behind, you are noble in intent, but I am sure you want to make it back home to your family." The man struggles and thrashes about as I try to calm him and work through the mass of knots. At last I break through the last one, and the moment I do the man launches himself at the guards and shouts at me to escape. I pry him off of the men and look in to his frightened eyes, and tell him he has been bold and done wonderfully, but that he has to leave. I then show him the rope ladder which he can use to climb in to the rowboat and make then his escape back to shore, the grimy man long since having clamored aboard the ship.

As I watch the harbour master row back to shore I feel my shoulders bunch up into painful knots as I realize that I have just trapped myself on a ship with the man who tried to kill both my sister and I, as well as steal my throne and county.

"Well well well." Hans muses from behind me. "You haven't changed at all have you Elsa. Still feisty and annoying as ever, always little miss 'I know best' and 'do what I say'."

"What do you want?" I ask without turning my head, I do not know if I can stand looking in to his malicious eyes. I feel my powers twitch within me; I am fighting with all that I have to keep them in.

"Same as last time, or are you as thick as to think that I would have given up?" Hans mocks me as he strolls into my view. His eyes hold a dangerous power-hungry sheen that they did not hold on our last encounter, or that he kept well hidden on our last encounter. Regardless it only serves to anger me more.

"You will not have my throne. I will die protecting it, and even if I do die, it will go to Anna and Kristoff." I hope in vain that this will deter Hans. It, of course, does not.

"Oh yes. Was that little party for them? Did I interrupt? I hope poor little Anna doesn't notice you are missing."

The flesh of my palms is ragged and flaming now from the clench of my hands and the ranking of my nails. "Are you not aware of my powers? I could blast this entire ship to bits and send an icicle through your heart without a second thought." I wish with every bone in my body that I could follow through with my threat right there, but the sinking feeling in my gut warns me that Han's is behaving like a man whom hold all the cards.

"Elsa, honey I know what you can do, but I also know you can't hurt anyone you love." He explains with an awful sick and cheerful smile, as if the sinking look on my face brings him pleasure; which, if I am being honest with myself, probably does.

"Anna." The name escapes from my lips before I can stop it. It is not more than a whisper, but I know that Hans hears it. He has her, he has her somehow, and I don't know how to help her. The one person left on this earth that means something to me, and I have failed her. She is too young, and to pure for such things as captivity and torture.

I promised my parents three years ago that I would keep her safe, and I have not. I wish they could come back from the dead to yell at me, because I know no one else will, everyone else will be too afraid to say what they know to be true; that this is my fault. It is my fault that Anna is tied up somewhere, mouth gaged, hands bound, and eyes covered. She may never see sunlight again. She had such a bright future; her and Kristoff would get married and have heaps of kids and grow old happy and with each other.

I am afraid by how much I know I would give up in keeping Anna safe. I would give up my country and my dignity if it meant being able to see her in her wedding dress. I would give my life for her to live out hers to a fulfilling end.

The world around me is blotted out as I double over on the filthy deck of the ship and retch, thankfully I have not eaten much today so I do not get sick everywhere, but I am slick with a sweat, which I can only assume would be cold on a normal person. I look up to see Hans's perfect and polished boots in front of me. "Are you done getting my ship dirty?" His voice is casual and bored. I spit on his boots.

My head is forced up as he reaches down and yanks at my hair. "I said, are you done?" I offer a weak nod. "Better, you will want to keep in line, so no sassy displays of independence. Ok?" I nod again. "Good." He let's go of my hair and my head slams into the old planks of the deck. "Get up and follow me."

I clamor up on to my shaky legs; I know that I will have to do exactly as Hans says to keep Anna alive. I follow him into the bowls of the ship without saying a word; I have no want to hear his venomous voice gloat about capturing Anna. How did he even manage it? She was definitely at the party when I was forced to leave.

"Hans. How do I know you actually have Anna, she was at the party when I left." I ask timidly, not expecting an answer. So when I get one I am surprised.

"Who said anything about Anna?" Hans says with a sly under tone hiding in his voice. I cannot help but panic whom else could Hans have if not Anna. I have not a soul in the world who means as much to me as she does.

I ignore the arrogance and self-assured aura that is falling from Hans's with each fall of his foot. I try to calm my racing heart, what could this bastard think he is gaining from this? The stomps of Hans's boots come to an abrupt stop outside of a singular locked wooden door at the end of the hallway. He pulls a key on twine from around his neck and fits it into the door. My heart constricts and my breathing all but stops, I do not want to know who is behind that door, but at the same time it is all I have ever needed to know.

The lock clicks out-of-place and the door swings open on rusty creaky hinges. Behind the door are two people who make me fall to my knees and sends tears burning down my cheeks, not in my wildest dreams would I have guessed them, not in my wildest dreams would I have dared hope it was them.

Despite the horror of knowing that they are Hans's prisoners and the inexplicableness of the situation, I cannot help but let some of the tears I cry be tears of joy. My life is at the edge of disaster thanks to Hans, but I am also privy to the image of my long since dead parents alive and breathing in front of me.

"Elsa, you will marry me if you do not wish to see your parents killed."

* * *

**Not bad? i thought it was fine, please let me know what you think, and have a nice morning/evening/midday/lunch/dinner/breakfast, or whatever comes next for you.**

**Also, you know whats amazing? Reviews. **

**-Whovian123**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi guys, pretty heavy on the plot here. I hope you have been having a lovely day and that you enjoy this chapter.**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or Disney, all rights belong to the proper owners. **

* * *

Three years ago I suffered through the worst day of my life, which is saying something considering the usual standard of my day. Three years ago I had to read a note, which was shoved under my door after being hastily written by Kai, detailing the circumstances of my parent's death. Now here I am today, stuck on a boat, being threatened by a madman, and looking in to the eyes of my decidedly not dead parents.

I lurch forward, in a desperate attempt to be close to the parents I thought I would never get to see again, but I find that a rough hand yanks be back into the hallway and slams the door shut, blocking out my parents and the frantic screaming they are trying to get past their gags. I have to help them, nothing else matters in this moment. I have to protect my parents through whatever mean necessary.

"Now." Hans's voice sounds from above me, sick pleasure coating the solitary word. "You better not do anything but agree with me or I will kill your parents." He looks mad, not an average mad, but a special insane and dangerous mad that assures me he will not hesitate to follow through with this threat. So I nod in quick small motions. "Good. First, you do not want your parents to actually die, do you?" I shake my head. "Thought so, I will kill your parents unless you agree to marry me, so you best consider my proposal quite thoroughly before you turn it down."

Marry Hans, I could not. I hate that despicable shell of a man with everything I am, but he has my parents. What would Anna do, I do not know. Anna would never be in this situation, I would protect her from it. I have to protect her from this. "You will be given until midnight tomorrow to consider my offer."

Before I know what is happening some lackeys have grabbed my upper arms and are dragging me down the hallway, away from my parents. I cannot let them slip from my grasp after so many years of thinking they were forever beyond the reach of my finger tip. Screaming and shouting I beg shamelessly for a moment with my parents.

"Enough." Hans voice cuts through the musky air. "One minute, you get one minute and then you go back to your castle and think over my little offer. Remember if you are not on this boat accepting my proposal by midnight tomorrow I will behead your father, and slit your mothers throat, am I understood?" I nod without making a noise and Hans unlocks the door, far too slow for my liking.

I rush past everyone in the hallway once the wooden door opens and barely register it swinging shut behind me. My father is gaunt and coated in dried mud, my mother mirrors his condition. Their eyes hold a thousand warnings, telling me to leave them and get out, to keep myself safe. I ignore them. Tears slide down my face, I never thought I would be able to look at my parents again. My hands shake, and my fingers are numb as I struggle with the gag my mother has wrapped around her face.

To my horror the gag starts to freeze, I am losing control. I wrench my hands away from my mother's face and back myself into the corner of the room. Frost is spilling out across the wooded floor and nothing I am trying has any effect of it. The mumbles of concern from my parents crush my heart, they have spent three years in captivity and may have undergone countless forms of torture, and they are worried about me.

"I'm sorry." The apology falls from my trembling lips. I pull my knees in and fight back the sobs tearing at the back of my throat. I do not know how to fix this, I cannot make Hans my king, but I cannot let my parents die. "I don't know what to do." My mother shuffles near me and I flinch away from her, I am spiralling through every defense I have protecting my powers and I do not want to explode.

She ignores my flinch and continues shuffling, with a quick flick of her head she dislodges the gag and sends it to hang loosely by her neck. Though she has aged by only three years her face shows far more than that, she has not been kept in hospitable places. "Elsa, it's ok." Her voice is melodic and pierces through the terror building within me. "Honey, look at me, you are going to be fine." How is it that she is calming me down, telling me everything will be fine? Should it not be me who calms her down and assures her everything will be fine?

The door swings open to show Hans, has it been a minute? It feels like a life time, but also like a fraction of a frantic second. I feel his hands wrap around my upper arm and pull me from the room. "NO, No, no." The screams break free from my throat and I am thrashing about again, desperate for every second I get to spend with my parents. "I'm going to save you. Everything will be fine. Please I'm so sorry." I can only hope my mother and father hear me as I shout at the closing door.

"Elsa, this is redundant. You're not stronger than me, and you won't risk using your powers because if this boat goes down, so do your parents." He's right. I can't let my parents die, after three years of thinking they had drowned I cannot let them die.

"How are they here?"

Hans' voice is smug when he answers. "I was waiting for you to ask. Remember that disappearing ship business three years back? Well, there was a bit of floating wreckage that your beloved mother and father managed to cling too; it carried them to the shore of the Southern Isles. I found them and managed to sneak them into a prison cell. I needed a pet you see, I was alone and ignored with so many older brothers, so I enjoyed seeing what they could take. So when I was invited to your little coronation I was excited, if I couldn't get either of you to marry me I had _persuasion._" The glimmer of insanity is back in Hans's eyes. He is a bomb, and I do not want to be around when he goes off. "So, I am confident that you understand the stakes, get back to your little party and think over my offer."

Before I can say another word I am being guided out of the hallway and off the ship by some thugs. They all wear tattered muddy cloths and blank expressions. The crew have lowered a secondary row-boat and I am being pushed toward it. I cannot bring myself to fight; if I fight my parents' lives are at risk. I slide my way down the rope ladder and grasp the cold wooden ores. My mind numbs and I manage my way back to shore with my arms rowing without my consent.

I brush off the question directed at me by the harbour works and Kai. I do not know how to explain what I have just been through I run through the city and sprint along the cobble walkway and though the castle entrance, without looking back I can tell I am leaving a fine layer of slick ice behind me, and that every time my foot touches the ground blasts of chilled air shoot out and around me. I manage to make it all the way to outside the double doors of the ballroom. Then I cone to the sudden realization that I do not know how to tell Anna. Can I possibly tell her knowing that she is on top of the world now and knowing that the news I bear will send her plummeting.

I have to tell her, we cannot have awful secrets like this anymore. Thirteen years of silence taught me that. So I am rather confused when I find myself sliding through the double doors as discreetly as one can, and deliberately ignoring the eye contact Anna is trying to make with me. I know if I meet her gaze I will break, I will not be able to hold back the tears or suppress my shaking hands.

I turn away from a mass of dukes only to find that Anna is immediately behind me. "Where did you disappear off to?" Her voice has vague hints of betrayal in it. I do feel rather awful about leaving her to fend of the royals on her own, but the feeling is drowned by the thought of Hans's graphic threats.

"I had to tend to…" My mind races of an excuse while I try to keep from being sick at the image of my father's sad eyes and my mother's tattered figure. "Things." I finish rather lamely forcing my powers to stop stirring, to stop pushing at the edges of reality and to stay put where they can not do harm.

"Things." Anna echoes. "Fine we can leave it at that, but only because you look as if you've seen a ghost, that you're going to be sick." I notice a few gossiping women shooting me snooty looks, oh god is it really that obvious. I reach out to take a glass of wine from a waiter in a desperate attempt to seem at ease and calm, both of which I am not sure I will ever be again.

It burns my throat on the way down, for I do not drink with the exception of a small glass of champagne when the occasion calls for it, but at least the drink gives me several seconds more to think of an excuse for my overly shaken appearance. I can think of none and excuse myself from the situation before Anna can question my further.

I will tell her tomorrow. Leave her with one more day in which life makes sense. She does not need to find out right away. I duck behind a passing group and follow them to the door, right as I reach for the handle I hear a voice call my name, a royal from someplace, the specific name escapes me. My fists clench and my nails return to the groves they have dug in to my palms. "Yes?" I ask with as polite a tone as I can muster.

"Your majesty?" The royal, a young woman with a delicate and elaborate hairdo, asks. "Please pardon my intrusion, but many of us wonder," She gestures to the women around her, "If you intend to take a husband soon, or ever, what with your sister being younger than you and already being engaged." This woman's straightforwardness has both startled and repulsed me. Why does she think she can ask me such personal questions? Since when was my love life worthy of gossip?

"No. I do not have immediate plans for marriage, not that it is any of your business." I explain to the woman, holding back as much contempt as I can. I do not like it when people pry, and this woman's irritating smirk leaves me wishing I could let my powers lose for just a moment.

I exit the ballroom leaving the woman and her friends behind. Once outside I realize the full crushing weight of what I have learned. I cannot let my parents die, that is the one truth that must remain constant. Hans has left me with an impossible choice and no one to turn to for advice. I am on my own in this; however I have had thirteen years to practice being alone. At least those years will not be entirely wasted.

Hans's left me with a terrible choice, but had he known me at all he would have understood that this was never up for debate. From the moment I saw my parents bound gagged and very much alive I knew that I would have to agree to whatever was asked of me. I am not proud of how easy it is for Hans to exploit my weakness, but my shame will do nothing for my parents. Tomorrow, long after every fire in Arendelle has been put out I will board that wretched ship and agree to marry Hans.

* * *

**What did you think? It was just a few hundred words longer than the last one so it's still kinda short, but the next one I have waiting for you is longer... By like a hundred Words. It will be out in approximately a week-ish. **

**Review? maybe? yes?**

**-Whovian123**


	7. Chapter 7

**So, this is the last of the pre-loaded chapters I have ready while I'm on vacation, it won't be more than a week before I upload though. That's my goal, to upload at least once a week. **

**I hope you like this one, it's "hint-y"...**

**Dislaimer: I do not own frozen, all the rights belong to the proper owners.**

**-Whovian123**

* * *

It is several minutes before midnight and I feel as though I am going to be sick. I have just left my bedchambers, twisting the brass door handle with shaking hands. I feel like a teenager, sneaking through corridors and ducking past guards. The thudding of my heart echoes in my ears while I wait pressed to the wall and cloaked in shadows, for a maid to pass by. As the footsteps trail away and the world becomes still and silent and I release the tension in my stance and lurch down the hallway praying that I am not seen.

The castle is easy to leave undetected, however getting past the guards watching the outside proves rather difficult and requires well-timed sprints and forgoing normal breathing patterns. With patience and cunning I manage to reach the village which is far simpler to get through, so simple in fact, that I may let my mind wander.

As it always seems to do, my mind wanders to Anna, and my parents. She had talked about them today, Hans too; it was if she knew about it all, as if she had spent the night inside of my head thinking the same thoughts as me. I shudder at the thought of Anna thinking the same thoughts as me, she deserves so much better.

The sun had hung low in the sky as Anna and I strolled through the gardens, Kristoff was out-of-town managing the ice trades. She was timid when she asked me if I thought Mum would have liked him, it was all I could do not to cry. I told her that she would have and Dad too. I cannot imagine anyone disliking Kristoff; he has hit every mark and surpassed every test. He even manages to use the proper cutlery, in the proper order, when at dinner.

Our parents may still be alive, but today they have hung over my shoulders like ghosts, reminding me that I have their fate perched on my decision. At least I can do Anna a favour and make sure that her mother is there for her wedding, and that her father can walk her down the aisle. Though I may end up selling out in everything I believe I know it will be worth it to see Anna's face when our parents return from the dead and re-enter her life.

The tainted air from yesterday brings me out of my thoughts and back to earth, back to the cruel twisted world where I am being forced in to marriage through blackmail. A rowboat is being rocked back and forth by the rhythm of the fjord. I slip in to it trying to cause as little disturbance in the water as possible, then with my hands gripping the oars tighter than I thought myself able, I row toward the ship. It is silhouetted by the bright moon giving it an ethereal quality that leaves me feeling empty and cheap.

I do not feel the ache I expect in my arms when I reach the boat, but I suppose that the trend of numbness has extended beyond my mind and in to my body. Hans is waiting for me, his face composed without as much as a flicker of emotion breaking through. I am sure mine is the opposite, a suspicion which is confirmed by the words Hans speaks. "Looking a little frazzled aren't we? Has it been a difficult day?" I spit at his feet trying to maintain a modicum of power in the situation, a choice which I regret seconds later as I find myself forced up against the railing of the ship, Hans's hand tugging at a fistful of my hair and his face so close to mine that I cannot see his eyes without crossing my own. "I don't want your sass, ok? I want an answer." His voice is angry and hissing, his perfect composure has broken for a minute and the man I see hiding behind it scares me more than anything else ever has.

"Yes." I do not want to beat around the bush, there was never a choice, I knew what I had to do the moment I saw the helpless eyes of my parents, and know I am just following through.

"Smart girl, I'll train you up into fine wife material."

"Now let my parents go."

"Oh Elsa, how cute, they are not going anywhere, if they go free you might get cold feet and leave me. No I keep them forever; your reward is knowing that I did not kill them."

"No, you can't keep them, let them go. Please I just want them to see the sun again." I sound pathetic, but I cannot bring myself to care. I need my parents to be safe.

Hans chuckles to himself, and then, quick as the snake that he is, flicks his foot out and jams it into the back of my knee, my legs give out and I am sent sprawling on to the floor. My face hits the damp wood and my arm is twisted in a way that wrenches my shoulder. That bastard, what kind of sick animal is capable of this much self-importance. "You ought to stop giving me orders. It's simply not going to work out for you that way." He says squatting down to be at a level closer to my current one.

"I don't think it's going to work out for me either way." I refuse to let my voice waver as I speak. I need to seem strong if I am to survive, I have to be strong. Stronger than I think I am capable.

Hans, having straightened up, brings his foot down on my shoulder blades and sets an uncomfortable pressure on my back. "I don't care what you think. I only care what you do; because that's the only way you can screw up my plans." I do not respond. I feel as though I may have pushed Hans too far and I do not want to gamble with my parents' lives. I need them to be ok. "Three weeks from now you will host a ball, and at this ball you will announce our engagement." Hans's voice drawls as he instructs me on what I will do and how I will ruin my life. "You will be happy and perfect, the quietest fiancé a man could want."

"Can I see my parents?" I ask, feeling broken and defeated.

"No."

"What? Not even for a moment?" I ask, my spirit flickering back to life, and my powers beginning to roil up inside me.

"Of course not, what do I look like, an idiot? You may, however, spend seven minutes with them after you have announced our engagement, only if you announce it well and play your part properly."

Play my part? Does he not understand that this is my life that I am going to have to forfeit all of my morals if I do indeed announce the engagement, if it can even be called that? Will there be a wedding, is he serious about forcing me to go through with this, have I sacrificed my entire life for this? Even if I have it is still worth it, I tore my family apart and know I have been given a chance to bring them back together, I cannot let it slip through my fingers.

"Get her back in the boat; I'm done with her for today." Hans shouts as some thugs by the railing while removing his foot from my shoulder blades. "I'll be at the ball, so remember to wear something pretty, I need nice arm candy." He adds in a low whisper that sends me running toward the row-boat.

I don't sleep when I make it back to the castle; I sit on the edge of my bed shaking and spilling frost out on to the world around me. My knees press into my chest and I have my arms wrapped around me so tight everything feels numb. I need to not feel right now, everything needs to stop and I need to be stronger and better than I am. I need to be what I wasn't thirteen years ago when I hurt Anna.

Every surface of my bedroom is coated in a thick layer of ice when I lose the ability to stay upright and fall into the now rather cold blankets of my bed. My hand breaks free from its cramped position and claws at the quilting until it is wrapped around me in a haphazard cocoon. My eyes try to close but I will not let them, because if they do for even a second the image of my parents burns against the blackness, taunting me, telling me that I am worthless, and that I will never be able to help them no matter how hard I try.

The windows in my room start to let in the rising sunlight and I realize that I have not slept a wink; I do not mind all that much though I doubt sleep could make me feel any better. Anna will be asleep still; it cannot be later than six o'clock which means I have several hours to myself. I do not do anything at all during the next four hours.

Anna comes knocking wondering where I have been and saying that the servants are worried and so is she. I pull myself from my nest of blankets and open my door, trying to look as well rested as possible. I am all too aware that Han's would not take kindly to Anna realising something is wrong. "Yes Anna?"

"You weren't at breakfast, and no one's seen you all day, I wanted to check and make sure you were ok, are you?" Anna's eyebrows are scrunched up with worry and she tries to peer into my room, a view which I am doing my up most to block seeing as everything in my room is coated in jagged ice.

"Yes, I'm fine, just enjoying a lie in." I answer as I step out of my door way and shut off the view of my room.

"You never sleep in though." Anna states.

"People change." I argue with a little too much aggression, I see Anna's face morph in fear for no more than a moment and then in to pity.

"Let's get some breakfast, ok?" She suggests in a light tone that tells me she does not hold any grudges or ill will toward me. Anna is far too kind; I do not deserve her kindness.

Regardless I nod and set out down the hallway with her. We make meaningless small talk and enjoy the reassuring presence of each other. We are a team, and even though I cannot ever let Anna know of the deal I have struck with Hans I can still pretend that that we are in it together and that she has my back.

Our breakfast is cold by now, but I do not mind and if Anna does she hides it well. She babbles on about Kristoff and their wedding while I force bites of apple down my dry throat, I need a way of having our parents freed for Anna's wedding. I will dedicate the rest of my life to being good enough that Hans lets our parents attend Anna's wedding if I must.

Anna and I retire to the stables after out late breakfast. Kristoff is still out on official ice business and was worried Sven might get lonely so he asked Anna if she could check up on him every once in a while. He slobbers all over Anna's face when she gives him his morning carrot, and looks to my hands for another carrot, but quickly loses interest when he sees that I have none. Anna takes to animals in a way that I cannot, though I am sure it helps a bit when they like you as well.

I do not mind though, I am sure Anna found herself wasting countless hours in here with the horses while I ignored her knocking three years ago. To make up for my shameful absence I am going to get her parents back to her, one way or another they will be back and she can rest easy in their arms knowing she is safe. I wonder what it must be like to rest in the arms of another, completely at ease and free.

Maybe, just maybe, for a fraction of a second, I am jealous of Anna. It's awful, of course, but I wish that I could bear the burden of keeping our parents alive with someone, instead of just pretending to have support. Pretending is for children and it will never make a difference because it is not real. I am not doing this with Anna, I am doing this for Anna, and that is not something I can let myself forget.

**Sooo, what cha think? Please do tell me where I've gone wrong, or what you like and dislike, reviews are the best thing ever and I really like to know what you think of this story. **

**Thank you so much for reading. **

**-Whovian123**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry I'm a bit late on this update, I was away for longer than I anticipated, and when I got back I hit a brick wall trying to write this. I'm trying to lay the ground work for everything I have planned. I have quite a bit planned.**

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own frozen, all the rights belong to the proper owners. **

** -Whovian123**

* * *

"I found a necklace." Anna looks up at me from her, now empty, dinner plate. Her voice is a forced kind of casual, as if she is brimming with excitement but wishes to keep it a secret. I make a small murmur of acknowledgement, indulging in her enthusiasm and protecting the flicker of trepidation hiding in her features. "It was in the back of a drawer, in the kitchen, I don't know how it got there. I had to polish it, and I had the chain fixed." Her gaze turns to Kristoff, whom is eating dinner with us, searching for what can only be reassurance. "It was mum's necklace."

That sentence sends a ripple of terror thought my body. Our mother's necklace, the mother that I had seen not more than a week ago, while and Anna still believes her dead. "I want you to have it." Anna says with a note of temptation. "You never got to say goodbye, well you did, but not like I did." Her voice is soft and melts into my ears, the tender sincerity of it ripping holes through my heart. How could I do this, how could I let her go on everyday thinking our parents to be dead?

The absolute least I can do is turn down the necklace, Anna needs it. She needs something to remind her of our mother, I already have the threat of her murder hanging over my head. "I couldn't Anna, you keep it." I force the words out while trying to hold back the images of my mother bound and gagged.

"I'm not listening." Anna says clamping her hands over her ears, and squeezing her eyes shut. Her immaturity is charming if a bit unorthodox for a princess. Proving just how determined she is for me to have the necklace she raises from her chair a walks around to the back of mine. I offer weak protests, and half thought out arguments on why Anna is far more deserving than me.

Warm hands reach forward to pull my hair back in a wonderful and reassuring way. With my hair out-of-the-way Anna slides the necklace into place and closes the clasp without so much as a fumble. Anna's touch offers me a comforting feeling which reminds me so much of our mother. Only now do I get a proper look at the gold charm, it is a comforting stretched diamond shape with a murky violet stone set into the center and intricate scroll work scaling up and around the piece. I remember my mother wearing it often during mine and Anna's childhoods, it offers me a sickening feeling, a pulling and scraping along my neck. The craftsman is flawless and not responsible for my discomfort, the cause of that lies in my heavy heart.

Anna has returned to her seat and is working her way through a slice of chocolate cake while making small talk with Kristoff. I bring my hand to my chest and touch the precious metal, it feels sharp and angry, as if it knows this is a sham and that I do not deserve to do so much as glance at it. I need to get it off. Without thinking my hand is at the chain, my fingers wrapping around the delicate links ready to pull.

"Wouldn't you agree Elsa?" In a flash I have my hands clasped in my lap, with the absence of necklace tingling in my fingers. My head snaps toward Anna, trying to make sense of what I am to answer. Fortune seems to have pity on my for this one moment in my life and Anna repeats the question without my asking. "Kristoff thinks I should carry around a dagger for protection. It's completely ridiculous though I don't need protecting, and even if I did, Kristoff would be around, and you too. No one would dare try anything with you guys around." My fingertips prickle with frost at the thought of someone hurting Anna.

Before I get a chance to give any response Kristoff uses the elephant in the room to prove his point. "Hans tried." Anna expression changes and takes on a darker look, an almost scared look.

"We agreed to never bring that up again." Anna says, notes of venom creeping into her voice.

"You died Anna. For a moment you were ice. Your heart couldn't beat and I thought mine was going to stop." Anna's mouth hangs open, her voice failing to make words and instead sounding only in vague squeaks.

"It's in the past." Anna says; regret pushing at the edge of her voice. "I wasn't thinking straight, I let him get to close and I paid the price. I can't go a day without remembering the danger I put you all in, and it haunts me at night."

The dining hall is all but silent for a moment, the only whisper of noise being the breathing of Kristoff, Anna, and myself. I am struck with the feeling of misplacement, as if for some reason I am where I should not be and cannot find the proper way to leave. Anna and Kristoff are stuck in a staring match charged with unspoken emotions. I try to move everyone forward by picking up my fork and eating the dinner that I have allowed to grow cold.

"Fine." Anna gives in. "I'll carry a small dagger, but I am sure I will never need it."

"Thank you." Kristoff's voice is gentle and grateful. The young couple share a glance loaded with emotion and then turn back to their individual slices of cake.

I excuse myself, not wanting to intrude any longer. My steps echo against the stone walls and my breath comes in quick gasps which sting in my chest. The charm on the necklace is balancing on my chest, taunting me with a relentless pressure on my heart. I do not make for my room; instead I let my feet dictate where I will end up, leaving my head to race through frivolous thoughts of pain and loss.

My hands paw for the necklace as I sink to the ground behind a corner of some secluded castle wing. The metal rests in my hand as I stare at the distorted reflection of my face. What I see is exactly how I feel, fluctuating, distorted, half alive, and half dead. This smooth piece of biting gold was my mother's favorite necklace, how can I ever deserve it?

I cannot put coherent thought together as evidenced by the fact that I have taken to the streets in an ill thought-out attempt to see my parents. I waited a few hours, curled up in the hallway, a pathetic mess of quaking muscles and confusing muttering.

The sun has since set and the streets are void of villagers. I try not to dwell on what a poor idea this is. How can I manage to sneak on to a boat? I know almost nothing about boats; they did not often come up in the assigned reading from my youth.

I could not bring myself to take the necklace off. As much as I know it is a travesty to wear it I cannot take it off. It comforts me in an awful way, because I know that the moment my mother sees it she will demand that I take it off. She will tell me of the disgrace I am and the shame I bring. She will clasp the gold diamond in her hand, sharp perfect nails clicking lightly as they brush against the charm, and look at me with those disappointed eyes that followed me through my childhood.

All too soon, yet not quick enough at all, I find myself at the edge of the docks. I cannot go any farther without falling into the fjord, and no rowboats are nearby. I am jittery on my feet, desperate to get even a glimpse of my mother and father, because, though I know I am a disappointment, they reassure me. They allow me to pull the pieces of my mind back together and they give me the strength to carry on.

Frost, frost has started to creep out from under my feet. It is spreading itself across the wooden slats and if I cannot rein in control soon it may reach the water below. As flashbacks from my coronation blast through my head I remember how I ran across the water, kept up by a thin layer of ice beneath my feet.

Without so much as a second thought to realize just how ridiculous my plan is I bolt over to a ladder and hurry my way down toward the gushing water. Frost is still dripping from my feet and fingers, and quickly latching on to the water creating a weight-bearing layer of sharp ice. I sprint out to the ship, talking little notice of the elegant night and the glittering stars.

The ship rocks in the waves as I clamor up its side with dexterity I did not know I had. Only once I am lying breathless on the slippery deck do I realize the full absurdity of what I have done.

"What are you doing?" A malicious voice asks from above my exhausted from. "You were supposed to wait for me to send a list with the invitees for our engagement party." I feel myself being dragged up and forced to face Hans. "However I can see how eager you are, so I'll fetch it now."

"No." My voice is weak, yet it still grates against my tight throat. "Please, I need to see my parents. Please."

"Good lord. Elsa are you trying to appeal to my inner goodness, possibly even evoke a feeling of compassion?" Hans's voice is a mixture of derision and outright mocking. His polished shoes click against the wood with a dull muted sound. He is pretending to think about my request, though we both know what he will say. "I'm going to have to say no, though I have to add that your parents have talked about you a lot lately."

Bastard, that awful, spineless, shameful bastard, I will see him to his grave. My arms lash out, weak and tired, trying to land any sort of blow. I need to see my mother and father. I need something to get me back under control seeing as I am spiralling out of it in a rather scary and wild fashion. "Please, please, you don't understand. I need to see them; my powers are out of my control, only they can help me." A sharp slap to the cheek ends my shameless begging.

"Wench, know your place, you have no authority to demand anything of me, and you will be wise not to do so again, otherwise your parents might find their hearts stopping."

I am silent now, afraid that my rapid heartbeat may be disturbance enough for Hans to follow through with his threat. He holds my furious gaze for a few moments longer and then disappears into the ship's cabin, presumably to retrieve the list he mentioned earlier.

I start with the hands holding me in place; they freeze with little effort, though the bodies they are attached to prove more difficult and have to be detained within a corral of ice. After that it is just a matter of remembering which hallways I was dragged down before. I hit a few dead ends, and the more dead ends I come across the more commotion I hear on the deck above me, I cannot afford to get it wrong again, thankfully I do not.

My parents are bound and gagged just as before. I do not notice any fresh wounds, which is a small inconsequential victory, but a victory none the less. I do not know what I came to do, or to say. I stand in the doorway like a bumbling idiot. My mother's eyes are wide and worried, and my father's face is a picture of startled concern.

I try to force something out of my mouth, a simple hello or something equality as inappropriate for the circumstances, but my throat feels like sand paper and I cannot force my lips apart. Thundering footsteps are sounding along the hallway behind me. I have seconds at most, not enough time for more than a sentence or two and absolutely no time for a reply.

I don't know what to say, so I speak for Anna. "We miss you. We miss you so much and I will do everything in my power to make sure you get to see the sky again." There they are, my two sentences, ringing in the air. They are not enough, they will never be enough, and they are so empty. Then the door swings open.

Hans is not happy, that much is obvious from his scathing gaze and the harsh rising and falling of his chest. Quick as a snake his arm lashes out and takes my shoulder in a grip which is far too tight. His fist is fast, far faster than I could have dodged. Strong solid knuckles collide with the side of my face, and then my vision is cloudy. My legs give out and I am held up by nothing more than Hans' abrasive grip.

"You idiot! What did you think was going to happen? That you were going to just waltz in here and get out with your parents?" His eyes squeeze shut and he lets out several deep breaths. "Let's get you out of here, I don't want to fight in front of my soon to be in-laws."

I see a flash of my parents' faces and then I am in the thin hallways of the ship being dragged by my arms up towards the dock. My powers have caught up with the situation and are starting to bounce around, trying to break out and cause damage. Trails of frost mark where my feet are dragging behind my body. I struggle in vain, because if I do not struggle I will hate myself.

"Life," Hans begins as he throws me to the dock of the ship, a place I am getting all too familiar with, "Will get very hard for you if you insist of defying me."

My eyes are still watering from the blow to my temple and I cannot think straight enough to respond. I want to fight; I want to take everything Hans has loved and make him feel the way I do now, splayed out on the ground, in pain and overwhelmed.

Alas, I cannot do more than whimper as Hans hits me again and then casts an immaculately folded and sealed piece of paper, which I assume, is the list he had mentioned earlier. I clutch it in my hand, my fingers to tight against the paper, ruining the seal and destroying the crisp newness.

"Invite everyone on that list, and don't you dare come back here unless I send for you, otherwise you won't have a father anymore." The threat sends me scrambling towards the ladder off the ship, a row-boat has been placed at the base which I climb into, eager to get away from the snide stare of Hans, but reluctant to leave my parents at his mercy.

* * *

**So? What did you think? Please tell me with a review. **

**Also, I kinda forgot to mention those who have reviewed, so here it is, sorry about how late it is though.**

**Aamp:**** Thank you very much. **

**KaleidoscopeHeavens: FLAGHAHAKLLJGUFDCHDSSSSSD indeed. **

**BookwormWithTape: I must apologize, because Elsa will not have as easy a time with Hans as you described. (Whovians for life!) **

**Belindana8: I hope you can like this story without helsa. **

**Ondjage: Warning, there is a slight theme of romance centered mainly around Kristoff and Anna.  
**

**Slightkaze: Thank you. **

**-Whovian123**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi, I'm sorry this is so short. I have big plans for next chapter though and couldn't fit it all in this one. At least i got this out in under a week, that counts for something, right?**

**Regardless****, please enjoy the exploits of our favorite queen. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own frozen, all right belong to the proper owners. **

* * *

I sneak my way back into the castle after my little "encounter" with Hans, my head pounding along with my rapid heartbeats. The door to my study is heavy and taxing on my aching muscles. Not that I give them much thought as I sit at my desk, scrawling out an invitation for every name written on the now crumpled list.

A single candle casts the light that I write by. The room is draped in spooky shadows and my heart is pounding far too fast to be healthy. Ink stains my hand in small streaks that I hope will go unnoticed by Anna. Anna can never know what I do to keep our parents alive. She is too young and pure to know the terrors life is capable of.

I scrawl out the last invitation, seal it within an envelope. With trembling hands I wave the list of names through the flame of the candle, turning the thin dry paper to ashes. I cannot risk anyone finding any evidence of this backhanded deal I have been corralled into. Wanting to waste no more time I leave my study in search of someone, possibly Kai, who can send the letters out to their recipients.

* * *

As I hand over the invitations to Kai I feel ill, at this point there is no going back. Though of course I could feign the reason for the party, claim it is nothing more than a causal gathering, seeing as the reason for the gala is stated nowhere on the invitations. Though if I did in fact change my mind and abort the engagement I can be sure to have many more welts on my temple.

"What are you doing?" Anna asks, poking her head around a corner to see me handing over the thick wad of envelopes.

"Nothing." I answer a little faster than I should have, as Kai hobbles down the hallway with the invites.

"Nope." Anna says with a quizzical eyebrow. "That was definitely something."

I pause for a moment too long, trying to think up any lie broad enough to cover the truth. "Party, I'm planning a ball of sorts." I feel my muscles tense as I wait to see whether of not that snippet of information is enough to sedate Anna's relentless curiosity.

"What for?" Anna asks.

"Does there have to be a reason?" I ask with the most innocent tone I can muster. "I just felt like socializing."

"You never 'just socialize'." Anna states.

"I do now." I reply and then change the subject as fast as I can. "You're up rather early, aren't you?"

Anna's face loses all the worry and confusion it had sprouted before and becomes a picture of excitement. "Yeah, I kinda am, but I couldn't sleep because I had the best idea ever…" Anna pauses, for what I can only assume is dramatic effect, and then shouts out. "ICE SCULPTURES."

Anna stands in front of me with her hands in the air to emphasise what a fantastic idea this is. "Anna I am going to need a little more than that." I ask, with no small note of fear, curious about what Anna's overactive imagination may have cooked up.

"Mine and Kristoff's wedding, there can be ice sculptures, and you have ice powers. So I was thinking, maybe you could whip them up with your magic." Anna's voice is halting as she springs from one thought to the next. It is easy to see that she is trying hard to express something, but cannot seem to get it out the way she intends.

I place my hand on her shoulder, and try to not feel hurt that she flinches under my cool touch. "I would be honored to 'whip up' any number of ice sculptures for your wedding." Anna eyes morph from nervous to ecstatic.

"Oh thank you, thank you. I can't wait to tell Kristoff. He's going to be so excited. I can't wait!" Anna gushes and then runs off down the hallway. She will be looking for Kristoff eager to share her news and to be in his company.

Now alone in the hallway I take a deep breath, and allow my hands to shake and my stomach to roil. For a moment I consider chasing Kai and trying to get the invitations back before he has a chance to send then off. I know I cannot though, I cannot let my fear get the better of me, and I have to go through with this. I have to go through with this for Anna, and our parents.

It occurs to me now that I have not taken off the necklace. I bring my hand up to feel it, flipping it over in my trembling fingers. I cannot take it off now, I want to, but my hands will not let me. My subconscious seems to know that I need to wear this violet jewel to maintain my composure. My mother always maintained immaculate composure. She carried herself with the grace and dignity a queen should have. I struggle every day to maintain that which came so easily to her.

She was not all straight backs and controlled smiles though, she was everything Anna is, bright excited and full of zeal and energy. I do not know what she is now though. I hope with everything I am that she has maintained your unique personality, that Hans has not destroyed everything that made her who she was.

I let the necklace fall against my chest and carry on down the hallway, channelling as much of my mother as possible. My posture is as perfect as I can manager and my face is a mask of calm as I step into the throne room. I try to avoid this room as much as possible. I hold meetings other places, and discuss matters over dinner and not from a throne.

The thrones unnerve me, not simply because they were where my parents rules from, but because of the sharp finality of everything said from them. When a law was decreed from a throne no one dared challenge it, which in theory is ideal, but a King or Queen is not infallible. I worry often that I am ruling wrong, that one day I will wake up to a riot at the castle walls.

Or rather, the thrones would unnerve me if there was not a tiny snowman sitting in one with a broad grin stretched across his face. "Olaf?" He looks over to me and lets out a little giggle.

"These chairs are comfy." Olaf's voice is a picture of giddiness, and unadulterated joy.

"You silly snowman, those are thrones." I tell him, a slight smile creeping on to my face.

"Oh. Why don't you use them?"

"Because… I don't want people to feel like I am above mistakes."

"What do you mean?"

"Well." I struggle to find a way in which Olaf can understand this. "Do you see how much higher you are than me right now?" I gesture to myself and then him, displaying the steps in front of the throne, and the superiority of the seat. "That makes people think that you will ignore your mistakes, or that they should not try to reason with you."

"So, if I ask you to let me have cookies for breakfast everyday you'll say yes?" Olaf asks with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

"Of course not silly. I am immune to the powers of a throne." Oh I do so hope that I am immune. I could not bear to become a ruthless dictator, drunk with power, and strangling the country, taking away any hope of a future. "However, you can run to the kitchen and tell them I said you can have _one _cookie before lunch."

Olaf jumps down off the throne and bounces down the stairs, wraps his thin arms around my legs in a hug and bolts out of the room and towards the kitchen.

I stare up at the thrones where I remember so vividly my mother and father sitting. They were never influenced by the power one gained from being a leader. They managed Arendelle with an elegance and tact I struggle to understand. Together they were perfect. They balanced each other and understood each other on a level no two other people ever have.

My knees give out and connect with the cold marble floor. The thrones are staring at me, judging me. I have failed my country and my parents by selling out and agreeing to a false marriage. The only reason I fell in to the agreement was to save my parents, and yet, I cannot help but feel as if I am failing them.

His smile, his acidic, soulless smile plays over and over again when I close my eyes. How can I do this? Is the motivation of having our father walking Anna down the aisle enough? Of course it is. I may hate every moment of it, but I have to do it.

"I'm sorry." I choke out the words with a gasp, sending ice crystals out into the air around me. "I am so sorry for what you have been put through." I am begging an empty room for forgiveness, but I have too. I need to let the world know that I am sorry for everything that Hans has done to my parents.

With my arms clasped around my waist I let my body drop to the floor with my knees and gasp like a fish out of water. Frost spirals out from where my body is curled up. I am overcome with my situation. How can I win? I cannot win. I do not even think I can survive.

* * *

**So the ending is a bit cheesy and sorta jammed in there, but that's how it worked out. I promise that the next chapter will be twice as long.**

**I hope you liked it and I hope you review. **

**And a thanks to everyone that reviewed last update. **

**Tuckash:**** It's not going to be very easy-going for Elsa, things will get alot worse before they get any better, if they do in fact get better. Thank you for your massive review, its amazing to get those. **  


**KaleidoscopeHeavens: Thank you very much, Your continued support is amazing. I love knowing I can actually hold on to readers for multiple chapters. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Hullo my lovely's, has it been a nice day? I know this chapter is really early, but I was itching to let you read the engagement party. Also, longest chapter yet, so yeah, please enjoy, and maybe a review after? yes?**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own frozen, all rights belong to the proper owners.**

* * *

"Thunk," the book I was holding is now on the ground and my heart is slamming away in my throat while my stomach has fallen though the floor. My room should be safe, it always has been. It is a place where nothing can touch me, a place where I can be at ease and let myself be calm, and not worry about hurting anyone, because no one is in it.

So why is Hans leaning back in my chair next to my bed. I slam the door behind me, afraid that someone may see him, not that it matters all the much seeing as I will be announcing my engagement to him later today.

"Oh, there you are Elsa; I've been waiting here for a while." Hans's voice is calm and smooth. If I could feel cold I am sure I would be overwhelmed with it right now, as my powers do not like being surprised, and this is most certainly a surprise.

"How did you get in here?" I demand, keeping my gaze on Hans as I bend down to pick up my book, which is now soldered shut by a coating of ice.

"Tut tut. Elsa, have you not a single kind word for your future husband?"

"How did you get in here?" I ask again, my voice betraying my panic though its pitch and volume.

"Elsa, sweetie, if you can sneak out to visit me, then obviously I can sneak in to check on you."

"Check on me" My voice rings in the air, terror starting to settle in as I fight the urge to call for help. "Get out now!" I plead, without meaning too, but I cannot dwell on that. All I want is for my room to be a safe again, free from the monster that is sullying my space.

All at once I regret being disobedient as Hans stands up from the chair and marches over to stand in front of me, so close that I can feel his awful smelling breath against my face, drowning me in its uncomfortable warmth.

The punch comes to my stomach this time. Close fisted and like an iron hammer. I double over, retching and gasping all at once, pawing at my stomach, trying to make the pain go away. Hans stands above me, a smile twisting his features. "Try not to get sick on my shoes; I would hate to have to make your mother polish them again."

"Bastard." I manage to force the insult out after a shallow breath.

Just as fast as he hits Hans has my hair in his fist and is pulling my head up, forcing me to look into his venom filled eyes. "Best not call me names honey, I have leverage, and that leverage might find themselves being whipped tonight." His threatens with an intense quick and quiet voice, spoken millimeters from my ear. "If you aren't careful that is. So do your best to please me."

Han moves back to his seat, and puts his boot clad feet up on what was my mother's desk. "How do you expect me to do this?" I ask, having recovered from the blow enough to manage short sentences.

"It's simple really, I expect you to betray everything you believe in because if you don't I will replace you with your sister."

Anna, no, no, no, not Anna, never Anna. To my grave I will go protecting my younger sister. She deserves a sibling so much better than me, so I will be the best that I can manage, and that means I cannot let Hans abuse her. I cannot let her know what it is to feel his fist collide with her flesh.

My eyes harden and I stare at Hans, hoping to look controlled and relaxed despite my state of panic. "Is that all?"

"Not quite." Hans drawls on. "You have to sell this, act like you simply can't live without me, like it's been torture hiding me from everyone." The double meaning in his last request is brutal and apparent to both of us.

"Out." I beg one final time.

"Are you telling me what to do, Elsa, Elsa, Elsa, you are a fool." Hans explains what I already know as he strolls over to the door that leads out to my balcony and leans against it. "I will be back for tonight, about eightish. One more thing, look at Anna, when you announce it, I want you to see the light go out from her eyes. Don't you dare mess this up honey."

Then with his threat hanging in the air, Hans turns away from me and pushes through the doorway and saunters out on to my balcony. He perches on the rail and then casts his gaze back toward me with more stinging words on his lips. "Remember, I won't hesitate to make you a proper orphan."

His arms flex and he pushes himself off of my baloney. Part of me thinks, for just a moment, that Hans has just committed suicide. The dark shadowed side of me is hopeful that he has taken care of himself, but as I rush to the railing and lean over to look down I see Hans sneaking along the walls of the castle and escaping back to his ship via a small rowboat that is bobbing around near some rocks.

My heart is heavy as I turn, and walk back toward my room. I am going to be made a mockery today, getting engaged to the man who tried to kill me and my sister. At least the details of his miss deeds are not widely now, however I doubt Anna will ever talk to me again after tonight.

"It's party day!" Anna shrieks excitement oozing from her voice. She is bouncing around, thrilled to spend the night dancing and talking. My door is clinging to its hinges as it springs back against the wall it was pushed against by Anna's overzealous entrance. I jump at the abruptness of the Anna's arrival and find the door handle, which I have closed, slick with ice.

"Anna, what are you doing?" I fight to keep my voice calm, to sound casual, to Anna this is nothing more than a simple party. I owe her a few more hours of bliss, and I am desperate to cherish the time before she changes her opinion of me and views me only as a traitor.

"Well, first I woke up really, really early because I couldn't sleep, and then I ate breakfast. After that I tried to find a dress to wear for tonight, which is why I need you. I don't have any!" Anna explains at a mile a minute, but having large amounts of practice deciphering Anna's speech it does not faze me all that much. Though the thought that Anna, Princess of Arendelle, does not have any dresses to wear does throw me for a loop.

"None, at all?" I ask, not believing her. "Your entire closet has not one dress?"

"Well." Anna starts drawing out her words in a way that indicates she may have stretched the truth, just a small bit. "Strictly speaking I have dresses, just none that I can wear, none of them look right. Tonight is going to be special, I can feel it, and a special night needs a special dress."

Special night, tonight will be a special night, just not the type Anna wants it to be, and not the type I want it to be. "Tonight will be like any other party Anna, there is no sense in working yourself up about it." I try to quell her excitement .The lower Anna's expectations are for tonight, the lower they have to fall when she finds out the true purpose of the party.

"Nope." Anna insists, relentless in her joy. "Tonight is going to be the start of something awesome. Its feels the same as your coronation."

That baffles me, my coronation was not awesome or special, it was not positive in any way. It was the day I let down my parents and my country by giving in to my powers and then running away like a coward. How can Anna think that is a day to be remembered fondly?

"What do you mean? My coronation was a disaster."

"Are you kidding me? Sure there was a little hiccup with the whole powers being exposed and eternal winter nearly destroying the whole kingdom, but without all of that happening you would still be in you room moping around and ignoring me. Also I met Kristoff because of the winter. Sometimes good things disguise themselves as bad things." Anna makes some valid points, though I struggle to see tonight ending in a positive fashion.

I do not have a response to Anna reasoning, so I address the previous conundrum. "So, you're out of dresses?" I muse aloud. "I have a few that would suit you nicely. You are welcome to try some on if you like."

Anna's eyes light up and her face takes on a grin which spreads from ear to ear. Without warning she rockets towards me and hugs me with a terrifying amount of strength for such a small women. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, you are the best sister ever."

I hope Anna does not notice the way I tense as she calls me the best sister ever. I am far from the best sister ever. In fact I am sure there is a place reserved for me at the opposite end of the spectrum as the worst sister ever.

I pat Anna on the back, keen to get her away from me before she notices just how icy her clothes are becoming. Her arms are far too tightly wrapped around my waist, she is so much more than I deserve. Her ability to love without restrictions and without fear reminds me of how much greater she deserves from a world that has been rather cruel to her in the past.

"So, what colour are you in the mood for? Pink? Green? My personal favorite blue?" I enquire while pulling her out of the hug and away from me. My chest is burning with that familiar harsh feeling that accompanies the uncontrolled outbursts of my powers.

"Tonight deserves only the best of the best; I think purple shall do rather nicely." Anna declares, a façade of sophistication coating her voice.

She clutches my elbow and pulls me into my bulky closet. I do not enjoy clothing the way that I see many other young women do, but I do have to be dressed regally for many events and occasions. Thus creating a collection of dresses I have worn but once.

Anna fawns over a yellow silk dress first, then a green one, while I clasp my hands together, trying to keep the frost that is inking down my arms from breaking free of my flesh and leaching out in to the air.

I am going to have to pull out an old pair of gloves for tonight.

* * *

Seven thirty, its seven-thirty, I have half an hour left before I won't be able to look my sister in the eyes ever again.

The sister in question is dancing, with her fiancé, in a lavender dress that she decided on after several hours of agonizing contemplation. She is glowing with bliss, she is in her element around so many people, she loves them and they love her.

The party is rather successful as parties go, everyone I as forced to invite made it to Arendelle in good time and with little incident. I do not recognize a large portion of the royalty and nobility parading around my castle.

Craning my neck I spot some interesting looking characters, such as, a woman with a hooked nose and green eyes, who looks to be rather old, angry, and olive-skinned. I also gain a brief view of a young man with bedraggled brown hair, and unshaven stubble of the same colour.

"Pardon me your majesty." A stately voice says, while the owner taps my shoulder and sends me turning around. "May I have a dance?" the voice belongs to a prince, who looks to be older than me, not by too much though, and is adorned in an elaborate orange military uniform speckled with more medals than I can count.

"I am terribly sorry, but I do not dance." I try to shake the overeager prince, but he seems rather focused on gaining a dance.

"I insist Queen Elsa; you will never want to stop dancing if you do so with me." This arrogant prince is starting to test my nerves. I have to put up with my share of overzealous princes whom wish to gain kingship over Arendelle, and most days I handle them with grace, but today I cannot find the strength to be kind in my rebuff.

"I _insist _that you find another woman to woo, for I am not so easily won." I seethe at the now flustered prince. He wastes no time scrambling around and running off in search of more gullible pray.

I shift the fabric of my gloves against my damp palms, twenty-three minutes left. I have not seen hide or hair of Hans and hope it remains this way, though I doubt Hans is the kind to just roll over and admit defeat. He could be doing something dreadful to my parents. He could be whipping my mother, or drowning my father. The fabric of my gloves is becoming rather stiff with frost.

A lofty man approaches me with his hard eyes trained on my face. He says nothing as he grasps my shoulder with a grip that is far too tight and far to firm to be friendly. I follow his not to gentle pushing out of the ballroom and in to the empty hallway, too startled and afraid to resist. This might be Hans's way of summoning me and if I don't comply he could kill my father.

Once in the hallways I see Hans, he is wearing the same outfit as the day of my coronation. Is that his idea of a joke, wearing the same outfit he got engaged to Anna in? "Have you had a pleasant evening sweetie? Sorry you had to manage the guests on your own, I was busy finding something to wear." His voice is calm and smooth, designed to agitate me.

I spit at his feet.

He cannot hit me right before I am going to speak to all of his guests, the people whom he wants to convince of our marriage. He can hit be later though. He can leave as many welts and bruises as he wants when the guests are in bed, fast asleep in a dream while I lay sprawled out on the floor, blood seeping from any number of gashes I may be issued.

For now I am safe though.

The man who took me away from the party grabs my left wrist at Hans's signal. He tugs my glove off and holds my bare hand out in front of Hans. For a moment I consider letting my powers lose and killing Hans, but before I can finish the thought a ring has been shoved on to my ring finger. Of course, keeping up appearances will require an engagement ring, I should have realized that.

"Come one, it's time for your big news. I'll come out and greet everyone when you announce the engagement." Han's says, with a tone so clean and clinical it scares me with its lack of anything definitive. "And for god sake, get rid of the other glove, you look like a lopsided idiot."

I walk back in to the party on autopilot, not thinking about where my feet are going, or even registering that they are hitting the ground. My glove slips off with ease and I drape it on the back of a chair as I walk to the raised front of the room.

I am not much higher than everyone else, but I can see their confused faces. Anna is at ease, not worried at all about what I have to say. She does not realize how awful what I have to say is. Clearing my throat silences the murmur that was rising through the crowd, and turns the remaining heads my way.

"I must confess that I did bring you all together here for an ulterior motive." I take a final deep breath before committing to what I am sure will kill me. "I brought you all here to announce my engagement."

There it goes. Anna's face is no longer assured. All pretense of calm has dropped from her face and been replaced with utter panic. I have to force the rest of the announcement out. I have to remind myself of what is at stake. "To Prince Hans of the Southern Isles."

I have seen the face Anna wears now, I have seen it once before, the night of my coronation, right after I lost control and she looked at me with hurt and betrayal. It is the kind of look that almost sends me to my knees, unable to stand knowing I have caused her so much pain.

Hans is standing next to me now, a perfect smile placed upon his lips, and only now do I realize why his guest list was so specific. No one who is privy to the details of my coronation is here. Everyone here has been handpicked to handle his announcement in the best and most enthusiastic manner. They will all bring their enthusiasm back with them to their respective nations. News of my engagement, and a positive reaction to it, will spread like wild-fire around the world.

Hans steps forward in to the crowd of onlookers with a snake-like smile. He greets guests, and tells some elaborate lie about how he proposed to me. I think I catch the words, "Dinner" and "Sunset" which is a far cry from the real story. Not that he could tell the real story.

Anna is making her way towards me now, anger scrawled through her features. I cannot face her. I don't know how to explain this away. She won't forgive me, I do not deserve forgiveness. So I run, I push past Hans and make my way out of the ball room and away from the "congratulations" being thrown out by random dignitaries.

* * *

**So, you like it? Please let me know with a review.**

**-Whovian123**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi, I have another chapter for you. I introduce another side character in this one, so let me know what you think of him.**

**Disclaimer****: I own nothing, all rights belong to proper owners.**

**-Whovian123**

* * *

I have to get away, my mind is spinning and everything I touch is being coated with a fine web of ice. It is done now, I am engaged to Hans, the world knows it, and I can't take it back. Anna knows and will hate me for it. She will never understand why I had to do this. I do not understand why I had to do this.

As I charge through hallways and stumble around corners I feel my mother's golden necklace presses in to my heart, burning, reminding me, and telling me why I am doing this, why I have to do this. It lets me know that though what I may have to do is horrible I am doing it for my parents, and there is nothing I would not do to keep them alive.

Nothing.

The winter air takes the sharp edge away from my panic, though the chill may be caused by me rather than the season. I burst out of the castle and stumble out into the grounds. My shoes are digging in to my feet; the heels are far too high and impossible to balance on in my current deteriorated state of mind.

It is raining, stinging droplets pummel me over and over, making my face damp and mixing with the tears I cannot hold back; hiding them from me, allowing me to pretend I am not as weak as I know am. The cobble walkways are slick and my heels keep slipping into crevices sending me in odd directions and throwing me off course.

I have to leave, blundering my way through the castle gardens I realize that I cannot stay here. I have to leave. I already tried leaving once though. Flickering pictures of my coronation pepper my vision. I ran then and got nowhere exceedingly fast. This time is different though, I am not trying to run from myself, and there is a clear villain. I need to escape from Hans.

It is not raining any more, but snowing with a rather fierce wind. I try to stop it, to give the weather back to Mother Nature, whom is far more qualified to control it, but I am already far to lost. My hair is whipping around, getting caught in my mouth and in my eyes. I am an utter mess. Then something runs in to my chest right as i feel my powers pushing in to the open air in a violent crescendo.

I feel my head connect with the ice glazed ground and my vision blurs for a moment. As the world around me comes back into focus I see two large blue eyes hovering above my face, observing me. My cheek is now wet, with what feels like slobber, and I hear a distinct panting sound in my right ear. A dog, what is a dog doing here?

"Olaf!" A voice calls from around a rather tall hedge, which has been frozen solid by the halo of rime spreading out from my fallen body. Olaf? Was the dog called Olaf? "Are you ok? Olaf isn't usually like this." The voice explains as the owner runs in to view; the voice in question belongs to a young man with bedraggled hair and stubble. Stubble and hair which I recognize from the crowded ballroom, I had caught but a brief glimpse of him before he was swept away from the crowd earlier in the night.

"I am fine." My voice is strained and false. I am not fine, not even close, but telling a stranger that would end with bruises, and dead parents. The man, whom is pulling his excited dog off from on top of me, has no identification on his clothing, no badges of war, or crests of any kind. He wears a simple tunic and loose linen pants, not the garb for a party, but his body language suggests he is not the kind to care. His posture is proper with his shoulders sitting square, but not in a way that looks intentional. It seems effortless and second nature as opposed to the forced straight, shoulders pushed back posture of the royalty strutting around my ballroom.

Stubble offers me a hand, which I ignore, and then watches me struggle back to my feet with confused eyes. "You must be the Queen, if I am not mistaken." Stubble deduces while waving a hand at the frosty quality everything in the garden has taken up.

I offer a brief nod and then make to turn away.

"You don't look too thrilled for someone who just got engaged to a handsome prince." Stubble offers the comment with a perceiving sense that gives me pause.

"What makes you think that?"

"Mainly the little ice meltdown you were having. It didn't look the kind of thing that a happy woman would do."

"I get jittery around lots of people." I defend myself, anger tainting the edges of my words.

"It's not that you feel jittery, it's that you don't feel safe." Stubble explains while scratching behind Olaf's ears. The dog in question looks up at him with smart eyes.

"That's all very well but I really must be going." I decide while turning on my heel and heading back toward the party. The moments of clear thought while sprawled out on my ground reminded me of every reason I have to maintain my mask and follow through with the engagement. Why I cannot let my parents be killed.

Stubble strolls along beside me, content to follow me back to the party with his massive husky of a dog several paces behind him. Once at the high doors of the ballroom Stubble speaks out. "You have a dead leaf in your hair." He gestures to the top of my head. "Wouldn't want to ruin a good reputation with an awkward leaf."

"Thank you." I say as I reach up, wrench the leaf down, and throw it in to a potted plant sitting in a corner.

"You are most welcome."

"Please don't tell anyone what you saw out here."

"My word is yours."

With that final syllable I push open the heavy door and slip back in to the room undetected thanks to a rather animated story Hans appears to be telling to the crowded guests. The metal of my new engagement ring feels as if it has turned to lead, it pulls at my fingers and tugs my shoulder.

I clasp a glass of red wine between my hands, I prefer white, but I cannot manage to get my hands on any so red will have to do. Hans is finishing his story; a charming tale about the time he killed a wild bear to save a small child. I doubt the authenticity of it, but it will do me no good to question it.

Sipping the foul red liquid I try to quell the tremor racking through my body. I make to turn and walk away as Hans saunters his way towards me. "Elsa, sweetie, how are we?"

"Lovely." I respond as fast as I can, desperate to avoid the wrath of Hans. "Have you seen Anna?" The question is dangerous, but I cannot keep myself from asking, however with such a prominent crowd of eavesdroppers near us that I know Hans will err on the side of caution.

"She left after you, Kristoff ran off to find her." Han's explains in to my ear, his breath making me want to scream and run.

I doubt Anna will even tolerate being in the same room with me ever again, and to think, this morning I was being called the best sister ever. The things Anna must be thinking. I have to take it though, I have to let her hate me for her to get anything out of this situation. For her to have her parents back.

I feel guilty about having seen them. It was awful to have to see them that way, but at least I know they are more than skeletons at the bottom of the ocean. Anna does not have that peace of mind, or maybe it is me that lacks peace of mind. At least Anna gets to think their fate is no longer in limbo, and is instead complete and final. I go about my days worrying about what they may be undergoing and if Hans will be kind enough to grant them another day.

Hans places his hand on the small of my back with an oppressive pressure that lets me know if I pull a stunt like running out on him again he will hurt me in more ways than I can count. The pressure increases and I am being lead in to the fray of guests, my feet struggle to hold themselves in place, not wanting to move forward. I plaster on the most convincing smile I can and nod at all the right moments as Han's uses his false suavity and poise to charm everyone with whom he speaks.

"You too make the cutest couple." A woman, a princess by the clothes she is wearing, gushes at me.

"Thank you." Hans replies before I can even open my mouth to speak. "Also, I should mention, you are welcome back here in one month's time for our wedding." His voice rises as he begins addressing the room at large. "You are all invited to our wedding, one month from today."

The room erupts in to cheers, and I feel as though I am going to be sick. I am drowning, drowning in congratulations and well wishes, I hear everything around me with a muffled tone, and my chest feels as if it is being pressed upon by an invisible pressure. My legs refuse to support me, and as a result I am being held up by the grasp Hans has on my back, the grasp which is far too tight and much too aggressive.

"One month?" I hear a voice question airily, a voice that I feel a flicker of recognition for. "That doesn't give me enough time to leave." Stubble muses as he approaches me and Hans. He has donned a simple jacket, which I can only imagine someone demanded he put on to maintain civility.

"How so?" Hans asks with mild interest hiding in his voice.

"I live too far away, and the winter makes a hard journey harder." Stubble explains.

"Where do you live? I don't remember inviting you." Hans inquires rather bluntly.

"I was under the impression that Elsa invited me, and when I was invited this party hadn't yet been planned. I am from a rather new nation, well new to you, but very old to me and the citizens." Stubble explains with a knowing smile. "No one really bothered to see if anyone had made a home so far up north that half the year the sun shines, and the other half is does not."

"Interesting." Hans muses with derision.

"Guess which half is my favorite." Stubble adds with a rumbling chuckle.

"Who are you, exactly?" Hans voice snaps.

"Have I not yet introduced myself? Please pardon my manners sir; I am Prince Kasper of the North." Stubble, Kasper, announces his title and bows in an exaggerated sweeping motion.

"The North?" Hans questions. "There is no nation named as such."

"Only because we never thought to give our people a name, but I can assure you, the people of the North are just as hardy as you, and maybe more civilized."

"If you are anything to judge by I can only assume not." Hans says, letting his hand fall from my back and stepping toward the young prince in what can only be described as a display of dominance.

Kasper ignores Hans and looks to me. "I wouldn't like to miss the first royal wedding I am invited too, you know, networking and good impressions, so would it be to inconvenient for me to stay the full month here instead of trying to fit two impossible journeys in to so little time"

"Of course." I answer before Hans can reject the idea, having been given a feeling of rebelliousness with my back free of territorial hands.

"Also, I hope you don't have any policies against pets, because I have a rather large dog." Kasper adds, flashing me a quick smile and a wink in reference to the unconventional meeting I had with the dog, Olaf. It is only then do I notice the husky sitting behind his legs, watching the interaction as if he can understand the words we speak.

"Elsa." Hans says my name, and though it is innocent enough to the ears of others I know that it is a warning, telling me not to test him, not to go against him. I am being warned that my talking is over and that I will not be allowed to make any more decisions. "We do have a few extra rooms, but we wouldn't want to keep you from your family, or your people." Hans says, with a gracious smile that makes my skin crawl.

"My people will be fine, my mother and father rule their country very well, and I am far from first in line should something arise." Kasper explains, oblivious to the threats that lie in the corners of Hans's words.

"Well then, I hope you enjoy your time in Arendelle, our country has much to offer in the way of trade and leisure." Hans relents.

Our country, our country? How does Hans dare lay any claim to what I have worked my whole life for? I sacrificed my childhood trying to mold myself in to a monarch even close to what Arendelle deserves, and all Hans has done is threaten and torture. I spent countless hours before my quarantine perfecting my arithmetic, my literature, and my science knowledge; all hours I could have spent with Anna, or my parents, before I was sealed off from almost all human contact; but instead the were spent toiling away at a desk.

My hand clenches around the glass of red wine I am still sipping from and I see a rime web out from my fingertips. I should be fighting to stop it, desperate to keep the wine from forming a skin of burgundy ice, but I do not. I let the wine freeze through, I let the glass grow slick and I let a subtle chill ooze in to the air around me. Only when I feel an angry pressure on my back to I stop.

Hans has noticed, and he is not happy. My focus and control keep slipping and I cannot give Hans a reason to punish me, I cannot give him a reason to hurt my parents.

"Elsa, sweetie." Hans starts his voice sickly sweet and full of malice. "You don't look too well, maybe you should head to bed. I can manage the guests."

Nodding so fast my neck hurts I stumble out of the ballroom and in to the hallway. Kasper and Hans can continue their tense conversation without me. I need to be away from the constant rumble of so many people, I need to be away from the heat of so many people. Ice does not manage well with heat, and people give off so much of it.

* * *

**So, whatcha think? Can I get a little feedback on Kasper, because as of now he crops up throughout the story a bit, and I would like to know if i did an ok job giving him character. So please read and review. **

**Also thank you too guest for your review. I can promise you a chapter a week. **

**-Whovian123**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hullo kind readers. This is not the longest chapter I have ever written, but it is not the shortest either. It is a little less exciting than the last few, lots has happened and poor little Elsa needs to digest it all. Though her situation can still get much worse.**

**Disclaimer:****I do not own frozen, all rights belong to the proper owners.**

**-Whovian123**

I make it back to my room, though it fails to put me at ease, for it no longer feels safe. It is tainted. Everywhere I stand it feels as though Hans is standing behind me, breathing against my neck, watching me. So I do not sleep, I make no attempt, it would be fruitless. I would have to add it to the list of times I have succumbed, times I have failed.

So I steel my resolve and wait. I tug my bedding away from its place on my bed and drag it to a corner where I can wrap myself tight and wait out the night. The soft fabric wards off nothing, I still feel exposed. I still see the betrayal on Anna's face, the hurt in her eyes. If I could tell her why I am doing this she might understand, but I cannot, Hans would kill my father if I let anyone know I was blackmailed in to our engagement. I cannot afford to risk that.

How am I going to manage breakfast? How can I sit across from Anna, knowing that she hates me, that she resents me and wishes me dead? For I am sure that is what she wishes of me. I almost wish that for myself, but of course I have to remember the payoff, that once I have committed to a marriage Hans will let my parents be free to a greater or lesser extent. He has too, he must.

A brief break appears in the cloud cover, causing pale moonlight to stream in through my open curtains and set ghost-like shadows dancing across my walls. My eyes cannot help but follow the willowy shapes as the glide across my floor, mirroring the moon in the sky.

The moon does not get enough credit; it shines every night doing its duty without complaint, content to let everyone sleep under its careful watch. Maybe that is why I feel safest on full moons, when the moon can protect me with all of its strength. When I can allow myself to rest and dream knowing that the moon will be there all night to see me through until morning.

So it does, the moon remains a constant presence throughout the night, though it may take brief respites behind the cover of cloud it remains vigilant, watching for trouble. With time the moon draws nearer and nearer the horizon, and with time the distant streaks of sunlight begin to filter past my curtains, but I feel almost angry at the sun for daring to rise.

With the sun will come the day, and with the day activity will begin. Baker's will begin making bread, market stalls will begin to open. Citizens well start their days, well rested after a chilling and uneventful night. Already I can hear birdsong tainting the silence. Sparrows fly through the air, convinced that they should pull away the quiet and replace it with the noise of a morning.

I know all too well that all of these things mean I have to go to breakfast. Maybe if I wait long enough the table will be cleared, everyone will head out, go about with their days, and Anna will decide to yell at me another time; but my stomach will be empty and my conscience heavy. I must give Anna the opportunity to yell, to scream and say what she must. I owe her that much.

My knees protests as I leave my nest of blankest behind and rise from the ground. I do not feel particularly brave or wise deciding to go to breakfast, but I know that it is what I must do. Even if I am sure whatever I force myself to eat will not be held down for every long.

Walking down the hallways proves to have little benefit for my aching muscles, and as I force the dining hall door open I feel tears prick in the corners of my eyes while my arms and legs scream in protest. I try not to look weak as I walk through the door. I do not know who to expect, the guests from last night are still running amuck in the castle and I do not want any of them to see me falter for even a moment, no matter how brief a moment it may be.

I prove to be too early to encounter the guests from last night, most of who drank deeply and will no doubt be sleeping all throughout the morning. Despite that shallow saving grace I still have to face Anna, who is up deceptively early, though I suspect that she may have forgone sleep. Just as I have.

I try to avoid looking at her, afraid that her gaze will be fixed on me, with hateful words hidden in her eyes, or not hidden at all. My foot hits a table leg, and my chair is loud and grating against the floor. Everything I am doing feels wrong. I should be on my knees pleading with Anna, trying to explain and beg for her forgiveness, but I cannot. I cannot jeopardize this. I cannot make this dangerous game any more treacherous, not when the price is our parents' lives.

With a quick side glance at Anna I can see that she is looking down at her food, focused on eating and nothing else. Kristoff is not with her, which worries me, should a fight arise there will be no mediator, we will fight and scream for who knows how long. Nothing happens though; we sit in silence, not looking up, staring in to our plates trying to figure each other out.

Anna's voice cracks through the quiet first, being as she is far braver than me. "Why?" Such a simple short question. Only one word, but I it encompasses so much. That is, if I am to answer honestly, which I cannot. So my answer is short.

"Why what?" I ask back, hoping a vain small hope that Anna will suddenly be ok with everything and just let it happen.

"WHY WHAT." Anna shouts, standing up with enough force to send her chair halfway across the room. "Why what! I don't know, maybe the fact that you are engaged to the man who tried to kill us." She is angry, that was to be expected, but this kind of angry makes me wish I could disappear, it makes me feel ashamed and makes my cheeks burn with guilt.

"Oh that." I try to keep my voice down, maybe if I act calm Anna will think that this is nothing and all rather unimportant. It proves a rather futile strategy.

"Oh that? Elsa, I don't understand. Why are you doing this? You can't trust him, whatever he has said is a lie. He isn't safe to be around." Anna's voice turns in to a broken begging, which is far worse than yelling and screaming. I need her to be angry again, I need her to have some fight in her voice, otherwise I will relent.

"Anna, I am your Queen and Hans will be your King, you are not allowed to speak this way too me, or to Hans." I say, a stately tone masking my desperate want to expose the truth.

"I will speak how I want about who I want." Anna declares, her fight re-ignited.

"No you will not, and that is an order." I almost flinch as I say the words, almost. My heart is heavy as I see Anna's face drop and a subtler angry look unfold across it.

"Is that where we are now? Giving orders to your sister?" Anna asks with a quiet plain voice. She sounds as if she truly wants an answer.

So I give her one.

"Yes." My one word sits in the air, taunting us both, reminding me that I cannot tell her the truth.

"Ok." Anna says, with a biting edge to the word. "I shall do as your majesty commands." She finishes her scathing retort with an aggressive curtsy.

Anna leaves after that, I sit in my chair and she leaves with angry footsteps which echo throughout the room. I hate myself, after years and years of separation, followed by a miraculous reconciliation, I drive our relationship to this. To a point where I am arguing with her and giving her orders?

I get up to leave, unable to contemplate food when I know that Anna is somewhere in the castle hating me and my guts. The dining hall still echoes with my footsteps, though this time I embrace to sound as opposed to covering in it up. Any noise is a noise I welcome, any noise serves as a distraction for what I have gotten myself in to.

Then I see it, with a step around a corner they fall in to my field of view. Hans advancing on a rather frightened looking Anna, an Anna who has unwittingly cornered herself against the wall and now has nowhere to go. "What is it Anna?" Han asks with mocking biting words. "Ashamed that I picked her instead of you?" He stops taunting. Now close enough to breathe on her neck her seems to notice her engagement ring. "So that oaf popped the question did he? Must be awful for him, because every time you see him you think of me, don't you?"

My feet become unstuck from the ground at the mocking of Anna's engagement ring. I want to knock Hans to the ground and bet him until he begs for death, and them forbid him the pleasure. I cannot though; I have to keep Hans healthy and happy if I wish for my parents to see the sun again. So walk with a brisk pace to where my sister is being harassed.

"Hans." My voice is strong, something which I am not right now. "Get away from Anna."

With my demand waiting in the air, Hans stops what he is doing; but does not back away. Anna is still pinned to the wall with his body far too close to hers. "I said 'away'." I demand for what I know will be a final time; for if I am ignored again I will not be able to hold myself back any longer. To my disappointment Hans wises up and backs away from Anna by several paces, just enough space to allow for her to slip under his arms and stumble in to the center of the hallway.

"You do not get to boss me around Elsa; I am to be your husband." Hans explains with the voice one would use when explaining something simple to a slow child.

"Exactly, you are to be my husband, but you are not my husband yet. So you will leave Anna be." I insist, only now realizing how dearly I may pay for this later.

Anna looks confused; confused and scared, but I cannot focus on that right now. Hans has turned around, walking toward me with steps that display menace. For a moment I worry that I am going to be paying for my actions right now, but Hans would not dare hit me with Anna watching, he would not dare reveal that our parents are alive.

He knows Anna would manage it too well, that she would think too fast, panic and reveal the capture of our parents. He knows that he would have to kill them to prevent their release, and with them dead he would kill Anna and I. With us dead he could say whatever he wanted, but if he manages to last long enough to marry me no one would dispute his claim to the throne. He would be king by every law Arendelle has.

So his steps stop in front of me, and with his hands clenched by his sides he speaks. "How rude of me, I beg your forgiveness."

I manage out a small nod, not because I have forgiven him, but because I know the price of not keeping up appearances. A quick glance to my side reveals that Anna has been watching our interaction with rapt attention. She does not say anything as she turns and walks away. I hope one day she can forgive me, but I know that I do not deserve it, that I will never deserve it.

Selfish as it may be I wish Anna had not walked away, because now it is just Hans and I alone in the hallway. He wastes no time crossing the feeble distance between us. One of his hands grasps at my waist and pushes me to the wall, the same place he had Anna pinned. His other arm comes up to bar his forearm against my throat.

"You little fool; someday someone is going to slit your throat, and I hope it gets to be me." Hans threatens in my ear.

I try to suck in air, I try to speak, but I cannot. My vision is blurry and I cannot feel my fingers. Then right as I am sure Hans is going to go too far and kill me the pressure of his arm is lessened and the castle air streams through my throat and in to my lungs, reminding me that I am alive and that I should fight to keep it that way.

"You're going to have an awful time trying to manage that." I state rather hoarsely at Hans. He needs to know that I will not relent so easily, that I will fight and make sure this is not easy for him.

"Are you forgetting my leverage?" Hans asks with smug self-satisfaction in his voice. I had. In my moment of self-empowerment I had forgotten the most important piece of the puzzle; the bigger picture. This is for my parents, so that they get to feel a proper breeze again before they die, so that they get to be at Anna's wedding, seeing as it now seems they will not be at my own.

My lack of response seems enough for Hans and he prances on down the hallway, his back too straight and his shoulders forced back. I fall against the wall and on to the floor. How did I get myself in this mess? How can I get out of it? There will be no easy way out; I am kidding myself if I think this will all fall together in the end. This will only end with pain and sorrow. It cannot though, I cannot let it. I have to make sure this works out. I have to make sure Anna has parents to hug on her wedding day.

**So? What did you think? I kind got on a weird tangent with the moon, but I liked it, so it stayed.**

**Please drop a review, and let me know what you think. **

**Thank you to those of you that have reviewed. **

**Inky ivory****: Thank you so much, you are awesome.**

**frozen lover****: Don't worry about being late, and thank you for the compliment. Also, that's a lot of stories, let's take it one at a time.**

**Prnamber3909****: Woah, love interest, they just met. Honestly with the state Elsa is going to be in I don't think love interests will work out for her. **

**-Whovian123**


	13. Chapter 13

**Good day kind reader. Good god this chapter was a bitch, I had a plan for it, but Elsa demanded to do something different, I relented in the end. Do not fear sweet reader, for nothing major has changed, we have only made a slight detour. **

**Hope you enjoy and review.**

**Disclaimer:****I do not own the rights to frozen, all rights belong to the proper owners. **

* * *

My door thunders with angry knocks. It could be Hans, but Hans is far more subtle and controlled in his anger, this is a raw rage about to boil over. Then I hear the shouting and I know who it is. "Elsa, I know you are in there and I will break down the door." It is Kristoff, and he is furious.

I open the door against my better judgment and he stampedes in to my room, his massive bulk making the ground quiver with each footstep. "What were you thinking, letting Hans parade around the castle, getting _engaged _to him? Anna was harassed by him, he pinned her to a wall in the hallway and verbally attacked her." Kristoff voice is rising in volume and I doubt I will be able to talk my way out of this, but then Kristoff stops. His voice falls to broken whisper. "He tried to kill her. Before, back in the summer, he tried to kill her and he almost got away with it."

My hands are shaking. I want to explain, I want Kristoff to know that I am not trying to put Anna in danger, and that I was ready to kill Hans for what he was doing to Anna in that hallway. I cannot though. Whipping up some useless excuse is my only choice. "Hans did no such thing, Anna is overreacting. It was a small encounter which I put a stop to before anything happened." The lies burn against my tongue.

"That shouldn't be a problem though; you should never have to protect her in her own home. She should be safe." Kristoff tries to explain. I understand of course, but to show that I do would lead to demanding questions, questions with unspeakable answers. My voice will not work as I try to throw together an explanation. Though I am grateful for my tight throat and sealed lips, for without them I am sure the truth would come spilling out.

"Kristoff, this is highly inappropriate. I am your Queen and you are not to speak to me this way." I am forced to pull rank, I do not like doing it, but it must be done to give Kristoff pause before he loses his last bit of control and becomes a loose cannon.

I see the shift in his eyes right away, though it is not the blinding rage I feared, but rather a sadness and worry. His shoulders relax and his face falls, it looks as if he has uncoiled, like his muscles cannot be made to hold him together anymore. "I am sorry your majesty. I just worry about her so much. Anna means everything to me, and Hans has a record of dishonesty."

The poor mountain man looks so crestfallen that I try to turn the topic of conversation is a much lighter direction. "Anna must be excited about wedding preparations." I grasp at the first thought that comes to my mind.

"She is, though we still need to work out a date, and regardless, your wedding is much closer than ours will be." Kristoff says with a gentle chuckle rumbling in his voice, his features having returned to a somewhat normal state. "Hans may have a sketchy past, but it is still your wedding, and a royal wedding no less."

My blood runs cold, or what I imagine cold would feel like. I have to plan my wedding. I have to plan the day I truly forfeit my freedom. Or maybe I wont. Hans is far too controlling to let me have a say in anything, not that I want to have a say. Hans will not chance anything going wrong. If I let my wedding happen as he wants it maybe he will be merciful, maybe I will get to see my father and mother.

"Yes, lots of planning." I force myself to keep a level voice. "I should get back to that."

Kristoff nods then bows. "I hope you forgive me for my… outburst, I was not thinking properly and jumping to unfair conclusions." With that he hurries from my room, no doubt eager to find Anna and talk wedding plans.

With Kristoff gone my room seems much larger, far too large for me to sit in it alone. I spring forward and out through my doorway, unable to contemplate spending another second feeling so small in a place that used to be safe. Nothing feels safe anymore.

I scurry through the barren hallways, feeling like a fugitive on the run, though I am not sure from what I run. My hands tremble as I try to summon strength I do not have. I am weak, I need to be stronger, but I am not.

Maybe I can manage it, maybe I can save them. I do not know where Hans is staying, but I doubt he is anywhere but the castle. Dutifully ignoring all of its rich history and architecture and focusing on where his portrait will hang the nicest. If Hans is wandering the same halls as me that must mean my parents are under the guard of lackeys. I can stealthy, I could save them. It wouldn't be too hard, a few simple soldiers are no match for ice.

My hands start to tremble and I can see snowflakes pass by my eyes. I can free my parents and call off the engagement from hell; I stand a chance at a life with parents and a future without an oppressive husband.

I bolt from the halls and sprint in the direction of the main gates.

I can make this work. It will not be hard to disarm a few guards, my control over my powers may not be absolute but I can channel it well enough to pull this off. Then I can take my parents back home, they can feel the sun again. Anna can see them and know that they are alive and well. Our family will be whole again, everything can work out perfectly.

No guards question me as I leave the castle; one man sends me a slight questioning glance, a new guard called Alec, but aside from that I make it out in to the town without incident. The docks are close enough that few people notice me, and even fewer stop me and try to talk. When they do stop me I am as civil as possible and try to hide my giddy excitement at the prospect of a proper full family.

Everyone is busy and has places to be, which means conversations are brief. I nod at several fishermen hauling in the afternoons catch and distributing it to vendors so villagers can buy their dinners. Hans's ship has, to my delight, docked.

My arms thank the fact that I will not have to steal a rowboat and row out to the ship. Replacing the barrier of water is a set of two guards. They look average enough, no special weapons, only the standard steely stares and swords. Though I can be sure Hans has hidden many more guards within the bowls of the ship.

Thanking the winter for its early sunsets, which cast marvelous concealing shadows, I place my hands together and rub them as one would when trying to create friction and warm their frozen fingers. Instead of heat frost becomes present, seeping across my fingertips and grasping at the air around it. Pulling apart my hands reveals a snowball so perfect and smooth that an undetectable flick of my wrist sends it past the guards at the boats entrance and smashing against a stack of boxes.

The boxes prove to be stacked far more precariously than can be deemed safe and they all crash to the ground with an awful smashing and shattering. Both guards whip around with their swords drawn, determined to protect their precious cargo and avoid Hans's wrath. The wary men advance on the boxes and I exploit the opportunity to run aboard the ship without them seeing. If I can make it in to the hallways of the ship I can avoid hurting them, and as questionable as some of their choices may be, I do not want to hurt anyone more than strictly necessary.

Thankfully the guards do no look back as they replace the stack of boxes with one even more precarious. I manage to get past the door which is mercifully oiled and well cared for and make my way through the jumble of hallways. Sticking to the shadows I sneak my way to the door which I remember as the one that hides my parents, my shot at a real family.

Four men guard the doorway to my mother and father, which seems a little lax considering they are guarding Hans's one and only bargaining chip. I decide to count myself lucky and take it for what it is, the perfect rescue.

I know that the moment I turn around the corner and reveal myself I will have seconds only to act and disarm the men before I am detained. My fingers twitch, itching to exact some revenge for this hellish week and a half. I manage to retain just enough of myself to stay tucked away behind a corner and out of sight.

My hands come together again, like earlier with the guards and the boxes, but this time four snowballs are revealed and they all race towards the heads of the guards. Two guards are clipped in the head and knocked unconscious with only a small gash on their heads. The other men move at the last moment, shifting centimeters out of the snowballs paths and sending then instead smashing against the wall in splaying circles of snow.

I duck back behind the corner of the hallway knowing that I have to act fast or risk my plan falling apart. The shadows of the two men advance on me, cast against the wall behind me by a lantern one of them has grabbed and is swinging around violently. I clench my hand and stick my arm around the corner, releasing the energy in my arm and sending a gust of cold air toward the lantern; the chill finds its way to the flame and cloaks the hall in darkness.

The guards both cry out in anger and throw the useless lantern against the wall. The lamp sails through the air and shatters against the wooden planks opposite me. Fuel slides down wall, jittering with the heavy footsteps the guards make as they stamped down the hallway. The run with steps that are determined to keep me from bashing the door to no more than splinters, determined to prevent me from reaching my parents.

When the blundering fools round the corner I let loose a barrage of winter weather. The guards are battered and beaten by hail and whipping winds. I let hard packed snow stream from my fingers and it collides with the men's heads with a crack that makes me feel guilty, far guiltier than I can let myself feel if this plan is to work.

Stepping over the men gives me a giddy freeing sense. I did it, they are both unconscious and I am free to rescue my parents. The door is locked, but it takes little time to locate the single key attached to one of the guards' belts. Getting the key in the lock proves to be a challenge for my shaking hands, I manage through. With my parents this close to freedom I could manage anything.

Their faces are frightened when I open the door, they did not expect me and must have thought that the commotion going on outside would only end in pain for them. I close the door behind me and then start to work on the gags and bindings. Their feet are shackled to the wall and their hands are bound with cloth. I can hear muffled shouts from behind the gags tied much tighter around their mouths than last I saw them.

I work as if I am a puppet, my arms and fingers flying through knots that I would be unable to overcome in any other situation. My father's hands fall limp into his lap, sore and unaccustomed to such free mobility. Sliding across the room to my mother's crouched form I realize that I have no way of breaking the shackles. The men outside may have additional keys tucked away, but even if I could find them I would surely run out of time. The guards above must have noticed a slight disturbance from the deck below them and will investigate eventually. If only I had more time.

The knot keeping my mother's hands together unravels beneath my quick fingers. She pulls at her gag, sliding it over her chin and leaving it around her neck like a bulky necklace. "Elsa, sweetie, how?" My mum's voice is such a comforting sound to fall upon my ears. The trembling in my fingers is soothed as I realize that I can, well and proper, get away with this.

"It's not important." I rush through my words, desperate to get my mum and dad off the boat and somewhere safe so I can deal with Hans and end this. "Do you know where they keep the keys for these?" I hold up the shackles, searching for a weak spot but finding none.

My father answers from behind me, having since retained comfortable use of his hands and removed his gag. "Prince Hans has it." My shoulders stiffen at the mention of Hans. I will win this, not him, if I have to pry the key from his frozen hands then so be it.

"Is it true what he has told us?" My father asks, a protective edge creeping up into his voice. "Is he really making you marry him?"

My throat is dry as I try to answer, as I try to tell my father, the great and rightful King of Arendelle, that I am surrendering his kingdom to a snake of a prince.

I settle on a slight nod.

My father's face takes on a solemn look and he turns his gaze to the ground. I want to tell him that I am sorry, that I am trying to find a way out of this, but as long as Hans has them stuck down here I will have to agree with whatever is demanded of me, which is why I need to break these shackles.

Flashes of my first battle against Hans break through my thoughts and remind me that ice is a rather persuasive force. I warn my parents with a soft mumble, and then wrap my hand around one of the chains binding my father to the ship. My chest feels like It is going to explode as I try to direct the swirling mess of power attempting to force its way out of me in to only my palm. Throbbing veins of electric blue frost creep along the metal, cracking and creaking sounds cling in the air and then it shatters. I close my fist on the crumbling iron, willing my powers to stop.

I make short work of the last shackle that binds my father to the ship and then start freeing my mother when I hear it. "Oh Elsa, you really are stupid." How? How and why? No one had seen me get on the ship. No guards had been able to report me, they had been knocked thoroughly unconscious. I had made sure this was fool-proof. So why was my venomous fiancé towering above me with his sword drawn.

* * *

**Soooooo? **

**I know Elsa already kinda broke on to the boat once, but this time was different, before was a tactless moment of desperation, this is far more thought out and less primal. Also Elsa is focused on getting her mum and dad off the boat, not just paying them a visit. We'll see how it works out. Also I know kristoff drops the subject rather abruptly, but he's Kristoff, and he might do that. **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you drop a review letting me know what i screwed up and what is ok. **

**Thank you to those of you whom have reviewed.**

**jade254: A whole paragraph! Thank you so much! You are the best. Also yes Anna does have a right to know, but Elsa is set on digging herself in to a hole, so it may be a while longer before Anna finds out, and it might be too late to fix anything... Sorry I forgot to mention why Elsa cant just off Hans and rally the guards, ill expand upon it with the next chapter, but you're pretty much exactly right.  
**

**frozen lover:**** Thank you so much for your support, I love reading your reviews. Your offer is appreciated, but unless you have an account with which to PM me and a **deviantart page, it will be next to impossible. ****


	14. Chapter 14

**Hullo, How are you? Good? Awesome. I've got another chapter for you here. Its gets a little creepy, Just to let you know.**

**I should have the next chapter up on Friday.**

**One last thing. HAPPY MAY THE 4TH. IT'S STARWARS DAY!  
**

**-Whovian123**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own frozen, all rights belong to the proper owners. **

* * *

My father launches himself at Hans, narrowly avoiding his flailing sword and sending both, himself and Hans, to the floor. I finish with my mother's last shackle and clamor to my feet alongside her. Hans is throwing his fists at my dad, his knuckles bouncing against my father's head with cracking sounds that worry me. I make for the sword Hans dropped, but a boot clamps down on it before I can defend myself.

I should have known; it is as predictable as the stories the old bards tell. The new guard, Alec, is staring down at me, his foot keeping my fingers from the hilt of the sword. No, no, no. How had he made it in to my guard, how was he allowed to protect me and Anna when he clearly had so little problem foiling my plans and aiding Hans. Of course, Alec is new, he had never really been my guard. Hans must have sent him in as a spy, how does Hans have spies?

Thinking with an erratic burst of hope I throw myself from my coiled position on the ground and up towards Alec's sneer. It is rather clear that he expected me to rollover and give up because his smirk falls off his face only to be replaced with wide eyes and a slight frown. I have never liked to give up.

Alec and I fall to the ground, each of us struggling for the upper hand. I kick and punch, desperate to ensure my parents freedom. I will not lose. I cannot lose, too lose now is to irrevocably destroy any chance of Hans playing nice. If the way he has played up to now can be called nice.

Then a feel the sting of steel against me neck. Alec and Hans were not foolish enough to come alone. I briefly consider struggling, but as the pressure of the sword tip gets more and more present on the skin of my neck, I re-think my choice. A behemoth of a guard stands above me, his sword at my neck and his other hand reaching down to pluck Alec from the grubby ground.

"Royal brat." Alec spits at me with a low rumbling voice. He wipes his face, smearing the trickle of blood that is seeping from his nose. I must have landed at least one worthwhile blow.

Using the opportunity of quietness I take inventory of my rescue attempt. My father is sporting a large gash on his check, and is holding his arm in such a way that can only be to avoid aggravating whatever injury he has sustained. Han, to my delight, is favoring his right foot far more than his left. The bulking lackey still has his sword to my throat and is backed by several other guards whom are obviously responsible for breaking up the scuffle between my father and Hans.

With caution I back away from Hans and his armada. My hands are trembling and I have to keep myself from blasting the ship apart, I may be immune to cold and ice, but my parents are not. With a flick of my wrist Hans and everyone that does his bidding could be resting on the fjord floor. It is such a tempting idea, an end to this awful ordeal, but I know my powers would get the better of me and I would return home with no family left but Anna.

I have to protect my parents though. So as my body starts to leak frost and an undeniable rage wells at the very center of my chest I move to position myself in front of my mother and father in a weak attempt to keep Hans from striking them. My mother reaches out with her hand and lets her fingers dance against my shoulder, only just touching with a reassuring pressure that reminds me she is there. Those fleeting touches keep me from exploding, though I still feel like a rabid dog that needs to be put down.

"Elsa." Hans begins; a flicker of worry crosses his face so fast I cannot be sure I saw it. "Remember, if we go down, mummy and daddy do too." He speaks as if I do not already know.

"How does this end then?" MY father shouts from behind me. "My daughter marries you and my wife and I spend the rest of our lives crammed in this cell?" I am afraid. The look that invades Hans's features is no longer worry, but a kind of subtle rage which seems a precursor to unforgivable things. As if Hans was forgivable before.

"That's exactly how it ends." Hans snarls at my father taking a halting step forward as means of intimidation.

With all that is going on I notice the sword has been dropped from my neck and is resting by the enormous guards' side. I can use this, they think I going to give up. They think I have already written this rescue attempt off as a failure. I really do not like giving up.

I take a quick breath and launch myself at Hans. My chest burns with quick jolts of pain. I am over flowing with power; ice is leaching out of crevices on the walls, and a swirling storm of hail bombards Hans. My shaky hands have a blissful moment of stability and wrap themselves around Hans's throat. His vile green eyes are a picture of surprise and shock; he did not expect me to be so brash. I did not think I could be so brash.

My hands wrap tighter around Hans's throat, he is warm and revolting, wriggling about underneath me, tying in vain to take in air. I am reminded of earlier today.

Right as I see Hans's eyes start to fade I feel a shard pain on the back of my skull. Everything goes black.

* * *

I cannot think, not properly, everything is clouded and swimming together. My eyes fight to open and when they succeed they wish they had not, for the dim light of where I am sends them ducking for cover in an effort to avoid the sting of usage. It is my arms that struggle for movement next, and it is my arms that first realize I have been bound, by rope, to a crude chair.

Why I am I tied to a chair? Oh no, oh no, where are my parents. Willing to withstand the sting of light I force my eyes open and survey the room around me. The floor rocks with a motion to gentle and rhythmic to be caused simply my swimming head. I am still on the boat.

I want to scream, I want to thrash about and fight my way to where ever my parents are. Then I thought strikes me, are they still alive, could I have angered Hans enough for him to kill my parents. My wrists burn as I try to work my hands free. Realizing that the rope is far too strong for me to break I inhale once to steady myself, and exhale once to let the familiar tingle enter my fingertips. Rope proves to be rather easy to freeze, but a bit harder to shatter.

"Oh, and what do you think you are doing?" An all too familiar voice asks me from the shadowed corner of my cell with an all too familiar tone.

"Hans, where are they?" I ask, not bothering to keep the desperation out of my voice.

"Whoever could you mean?" He is playing with me now, mocking me with his casual stroll and his twiddling thumbs, through the fact that his casual stroll is punctuated by a minor limp makes me rather proud of my father.

"You know who I mean." My voice is a ragged yell. I need to know if they are safe and I do not pay any mind to what the consequences of my actions may be.

"Hush now sweetie." Hans coos. "You don't want to get yourself worked up, remember if you go up the boat goes down, which means your parents will become features of the seafloor.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you now."

"Alec."

"Alec what?"

"Young Alec represents the network of spies that have infiltrated your guard." Hans's voice gets progressively more excited as he speaks, and his eyes take on a sheen of joy. He is dangerous, more so than I realized. "If any of my men see me go down then they have the authority to slit your father's throat and do the same to your mother."

"Please." I beg with a broken voice. "I have done everything you asked me to do. Please, stop"

"NO." Hans loses his demeanour for second and quicker than my slow tired eyes can see he sends the back of his hand against my cheek. My eyes water and my skin smarts as Hans continues with a renewed sense of vigor. "And, you should know, I have a special set of killers stationed around your little sister."

"No, no, please, not Anna. Have anything, take anything, and just let her be. She is too young, she means no harm. Please." The words are breaking free from my tongue without permission, I do not care though. Hans cannot hurt Anna. Anna is my sister and I would take a thousand knifes to the chest if it meant she got to live another minute.

Hans chuckles. "As if your pathetic pleading could get me to stop. I do what I want Elsa, you get the privilege of following me."

He has walked around me and is standing directly behind me, his head leaning forward to speak his threats in to my ear. I do not say anything; I look ahead and try to ignore him. Then I feel it. His hand is on my shoulder. The same spot that my mother placed a comforting hand, only this hand is not comforting. His hand rubs circles around my shoulder with too much pressure. His fingers hook under my dress and begin tracing small spirals across my skin. I shift my weight, trying to shake him off, but the moment I move I feel a knife against my skin. It cannot be bigger than a dagger, nothing else would fit in the narrow space between us.

"Please stop." I know the words will fall on deaf ears, but if I do not say them I will not be able to live with myself.

"Elsa, why would I? We are engaged after all, your body is mine to do with as I please." I have to fight the urge to be sick; if I am sick I will only get in trouble. "Then again, I have heard that a virgin on her wedding night is better than a thousand whores."

I feel his fingers recede and my dress falls back in to place against my shoulder. The coil of tension sitting in the center of my chest dissipates, though the blade still rests against the small of my back. I may have been spared utter humiliation today, but I can be sure that things will not go well for me.

"I think I will let you go. Tonight you can rest in your little bed, get some much-needed beauty rest, and then tomorrow you will be fitted for you wedding dress. I have already sent the design to your seamstress, do not make any alterations, just sit there and let them do their work." Hans explains in a deathly whisper.

I nod.

"Good, now." Hans flicks his wrists and cuts through my bindings with the dagger. "Leave this place, do not think of trying another rescue attempt, I have eyes everywhere. Go straight back to the castle. Do not have dinner, you do not need it and you do not need the questions people will ask you, go to your room and do not leave until tomorrow."

I do not turn to face Hans; I do not open my mouth with a reply. I simply wait.

"Am I understood?" Hans asks with the pressure of a knife against my back returning.

"Yes."

"Good, now get out."

I scramble up to my feet, knocking over the chair in my haste. Without looking back I charge toward the door, needing to be anywhere but here. Sprinting through the corridors I see at least a hundred men lining the walls. They all watch me as I pass them, their faces daring me to try anything stupid. I do not try anything.

Once I reach the deck is it but a quick sprint to the dock and then another sprint the land.

Night has fallen; some patches of moon light manage to break past the blanket of clouds. The patches make me feel safe, or as safe as one as feel after my night.

I walk in to the castle with as much authority as I can muster; no one asks me where I have been or what I have done. Alec gives me a small sneer which sends me on my way a bit faster. The halls are empty and I make my way to my room praying that I do not meet any stragglers. Guests from my party may still be staying in the castle and I cannot bear the thought of a conversation with one of them now.

The door to my room looms in the distance, and my shoes connect with the ground in a series of clacking sounds. As I walk in to my room and close the door behind me I realize how tired I am. It has been far to long since I last slept. It feels like letting Hans win if I sleep for even a wink, but I cannot bear the thought of keeping my eyes open any longer. I haul my bedding away from the nest I had made in a corner and spread it back in to place. My body gives out and I collapse on top of every sheet and blanket I have just meticulously placed, clinging to the shallow hope that tomorrow can be a better day.

* * *

**Please let me know what you thought with a review, long or short it does not matter. **

**-Whovian123**

**Thank you to everyone that has favorited, followed, and just plain ol' read this story. **

**AshleyTenant: Thank you so much for your review, and thank you so much for the complements. Yeah, Hans is kinda a massive douche, but it only gets worse.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hullo, How are you? I've got a nice new chapter right here for you. **

**I hope you like it.**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen, all rights belong to the proper owners. **

* * *

"Sorry your majesty." My seamstress apologizes as she pricks me with a needle while trying to get a swatch of creamy fabric pinned in place. Her glasses hanging on to the tip of her nose, and her lips pressed tight together in concentration.

I nod and tell her it is fine. Truth be told, I did not feel a thing. In fact, I am numb, utterly numb from the events of yesterday. Getting up was no big challenge, getting dressed was just as easy. Avoiding the wandering guards and guests of my castle proved to be a little less easy. Forcing myself to attend this fitting was all but impossible.

My seamstress had attempted small talk for the first hour and a half, but gave up when I showed no enthusiasm. She is so excited for me, gossiping on and on about wedding cakes and how lovely my gown will be. I tried to answer with interest and delight, but I cannot manage more than a thin smile. My wedding should bring a bashful smile to my face and a modest blush; instead the best I can manage is a mask of indifference, which hides the fear I seem to be feeling a lot as of late.

My shoulders are bare; I wish this blasted dress had sleeves. The brief glances I catch of myself in the mirrors hanging around the room leave me little hope for a dress I can tolerate. With what I know of Hans this does not come as a surprise. I tug with nervous energy at the gloves I have been permitted to wear for the wedding in spite of their conservative nature, at least Hans is weary of me enough to protect himself by giving me gloves.

I wonder what my wedding will be like, what flowers will be there. Will the cake be chocolate or vanilla, I would much favor chocolate, but I know Hans will not have taken in to account any of my preferences. How many people will wish me congratulations and give me their blessing for my new life with a monster? Will Anna attend? Even though I know she must hate me I cannot help but pray on the shallow hope that she looks past Hans and finds a way to forgive me.

Will my father be released to walk me down the aisle? I used to think this was a possibility, Hans letting my parents out for special occasions, or maybe freeing them altogether, but with the words of last night echoing in my ears I doubt my father will be able to attend my wedding. I almost shudder at the thought of walking down the aisle alone, stumbling toward my hellish future and my tyrannical husband.

My king.

A queen is second to only her husband, her king. Hans will be my king. Not only will I have to obey him to keep my parents in one piece, but to keep my citizens unsuspecting and calm. His word will be law and I will have to watch in silent horror as he takes over my country, disturbing our trade to fit his needs, and ruining all of our political relations. My country will be in shambles before the snow melts.

My breath wavers as I contemplate the repercussions of this wedding. My freedom, something I had to sacrifice throughout my childhood, will be taken from me. I will be expected to sit quietly, passively, and let the world happen around me; a world which I had to fight so hard to be a part of.

"Pardon me your majesty." The seamstress begins. "It's kind of cold." I can only assume she has made a polite understatement, because when I refocus of the world around me I notice a fine layer of frost on the mirrors around me and fine flakes of snow suspended in mid-air around the room.

"Sorry. I didn't realize." I stammer, ashamed that I have lost control. With a whip of my hand I force the snow and ice to dissipate. "I am so sorry."

"Oh don't worry dear. I'm sure it's just wedding jitters." She waves her hand, dismissing my apology. "Your mother was the same why when I was making her dress, though a tad less snowy."

My breath catches in my throat. I cannot think about my mother, not now. "I forgot you made her wedding dress." I want to flinch at how forced my voice sounds, but thankfully she is far too distracted by the memories of my mother's wedding.

"She was so pretty, a beautiful blushing bride. You look just like her, an absolute vision. Her wedding was perfect. Your father was so excited. They really loved each other." Her eyes cloud with tears that threaten to spill out and on to her face. "Your mother would visit me sometimes; she would talk about you and your sister for ages. She would have loved to see you in a wedding dress, so would your father. It's a shame they won't be there."

I nod, unable to do more than move my neck muscles; every other part of me is frozen. My arms are stuck to my sides, my feet feel weighted to the ground, and my fingers won't unclench from the fists I had unwittingly made.

"Well, I'm done. How do you like it?" The seamstress asks while stepping back to take in all of her work.

"It's amazing." I feel the words sting in my mouth; they are a necessary lie to keep my cover. Her work is masterful, but the design commissioned by Hans leaves me longing for an overcoat.

"Well, let's get you out of it then. Sooner I can send you back to spend time with your fiancé the better." She helps me out of the dress, careful to keep the pins from shifting and ruining the mornings work.

I step back in to my casual attire, making sure my mothers necklace is sitting properly against my chest. As of late it has become my habit to wear it and treat it like an anchor to my sanity. I bid the seamstress a good day and thank her for all of her hard work, remarking upon how much Hans will appreciate it. She tells me it was a pleasure to spend the morning with me.

Once in the hallways I stare straight ahead as I walk, ignoring the slapping of my shoes against the ground. I focus on finding somewhere where no one will see me, because I need to scream, I need to let go of the pressure building in my chest. The knowledge that my mother will not be at my wedding is too much. The fact that I will not be able to look out at all the people watching me and see my mum, her face soft and proud as she wipes away tears of joy.

Air, I need air. My lungs feel like they are on fire, and my head is spinning so fiercely that I fear I may be sick. All I need is air. Air will make the crushing weight on my chest slide away. A few gulps of crisp winter air will make me forget about what my seamstress said. If I can forget that then I can forget that my mother will not be at my wedding. I can forget that my father will be sitting in a cage, squinting in to dim light, instead of walking me down the aisle like he should be.

I feel the ground under my shoes shift from smooth shiny tile to an uneven kind of gravel. Casting a wayward glance around me reveals that it is snowing. It is not my panic-stricken snow, it is a natural snow that eases my shoulders and under any other circumstances would have me smiling from ear to ear.

Allowing myself a moment to forget about the world and my problems I shout. I swing my head to the sky and shout out a meaningless sound. The shout rips from my throat and out in to the world, then it is gone. In an instance my voice is nothing but an echo of an echo, not even part of the physical world anymore, nothing but a memory.

Is that what my life is now, nothing but a memory? Everything I love and everything I believe, is being ripped from me. When will I be left with nothing? When will I be a shell of a person, nothing but memories?

"Are you going to stop shouting or should I move?"

The sudden question shocks me. I thought I was alone.

Turning a quick circle I locate the speaker. Kasper is leaning against a thick oak tree, his arms crossed over his body in a casual way. His face is turned toward me, but his body is facing outward, pointing toward the mountains.

"Sorry, I didn't know anyone was around." I stammer, ashamed that someone had to see that.

"Doesn't answer my question." Kasper persists.

"I'll stop."

"Good."

We stare at each other in silence, a silence which is all too quickly becoming an awkward one. Kasper shifts his weight and then turns his body to face me. "Are you ok?"

"What?" I demand, taken aback by this gentleman's straightforwardness.

"I've seen you twice and both times started off with you screaming and panicking." He states, concern tinting his voice.

"I am fine." I say, falling so easily in to the mask that became who I was for most of my childhood. The lying comes so flawlessly, having been ingrained in me the moment I could feel ashamed of my faults.

To say Kasper looks sceptical would be a rather extreme understatement. Regardless, he shrugs, deciding not to press the issue.

"Why are you out here?" I ask, curious as to why he ever seems to be inside.

"I like it better than indoors, and so does Olaf." Kasper smiles tilting his head toward his dog; who is rolling around in a patch of snow several feet away.

"I know a snowman called Olaf." I offer the information as means of catalyzing a conversation.

"I was going to ask about him. He seems to have taken a liking to me; he finds me in the hallways and talks with me."

"He's sweet." I muse, much more at ease with Kasper now that I know Olaf has taken a liking to him. For all his naïvety Olaf is a wonderful judge of character.

The silence which follows is far more companionable than the first.

I take several unsure steps towards him and fall in to place by his side, looking out toward the mountains. "I wonder what it's like out there." Kasper says his voice soft, as if in a dream.

"It's amazing." I begin before I can stop myself. "The snow is a blanket of perfection. At night the sky swirls above you, with a thousand colors stretched across as far has your eye can see, peppered with stars that shine brighter than you can believe. The silence is flawlessly soft and if you listen you can hear the snowflakes as they zigzag toward the ground."

"It sounds like home." Kasper states his voice wistful. "I miss home."

"What do you miss most?" I ask, curious about places outside of Arendelle.

"Sparing with my siblings." He responds so fast I know he had thought about it before I asked the question.

"Siblings?"

"Two older brothers and a younger sister." Kasper explains while running his hand through his hair. "My oldest brother spends most of his time studying and prepping for when he becomes king, but the other two, my sister more so than my brother, enjoyed spending time with me outside."

"Who usually wins?" I ask, feeling brave enough to offer a cheeky smile.

"My sister, I have rather bad swordsmanship." Kasper chuckles, it is a deep rumbling sound from the pits of his chest.

"I'm sure it's not too bad." I offer with a kind smirk.

"We'll have to spar sometime; you can watch me fall over my sword."

Our conversation is cut short by Olaf forgetting about rolling around in the snow and discovering that I am an awesome thing to jump on. Kasper tries to apologize and pull him from me, but I insist that I love dogs. In all honesty I feel flattered that Olaf is so enthusiastic about me, most animals get scared and skittish around me, as if they know I am a time bomb.

* * *

**It's short, I know it's short. I'll update Thursday and that will be longer. **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, drop a review and let me know what you think. **

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter. **

**jade254: Hans is awful isnt he. And yes, Elsa most certainly is going to put up the best fight she can, though i dont know if its going to be enough. **

**AFangirlofShorts: Thank you very much, and i think this chapter may have served as an answer to your question. **

**Guest: I am afraid Hans might. **


	16. Chapter 16

**Hullo. So, this is my longest chapter yet. I feel I should warn you that there is a small amount of cussing in this chapter, nothing major, jut a few insults. **

**I hope you enjoy it. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Frozen, all rights belong to the proper owners.**

* * *

It is raining, it's a stormy rain that pounds against the roof tops and the walls, battering against the windows and filling the silence with a frantic and persistent drumming. I need to get to dinner, I am expected at dinner. With my wedding approaching at a pace that scares me I am expected to take dinner with the guests that have arrived, and the one that never left.

My ears welcome the distraction of rain as I make my way out of my room and toward the dining hall. Yesterday I was late to dinner, Hans was not impressed. My steps are careful and calculated as not to aggravate any of my injuries. A small limp is fine to bear in an empty hallway, but in front of guests I will have to play the part of an excited bride and cover any missteps with a false smile.

The halls are empty, which worries me. Has everyone already made their way to dinner? Will I be forced to walk in late, be berated by Hans, and stared at by guests? My lodgers have proven all to giddy with my wedding fast approaching. Whenever I find myself in their company I am assaulted with questions of my dress, and advice on cake frosting. Everyone always wishes me well with my new life and new husband. When they tell me how lucky I am I have to clench my fists and hope the unsuspecting well-wisher is not susceptible to the cold.

"Elsa?"

Anna's voice takes me from the thoughts and drops me back in the real world.

"Shouldn't you be a dinner?" I ask, while surveying her appearance. Her eyes have prominent dark circles hanging under them; they lay in stark contrast with her pale skin. It is rather clear that she has not been sleeping well.

"I could say the same to you." Anna announces. "Won't Hans get angry if you show up late?" Her voice takes on a curious tone, one which is mingled with both concern and anger, as though she does not know how to feel about me, or my fiancée.

"Please come to dinner Anna. Kristoff comes every night." I plead with the young princess, my sister, who hates my guts so fiercely. Her Fiancée is forced to tell a weak lie every night when she fails to show up for the evening meal.

"Are you still getting married to Hans?" Anna questions with malice.

"Yes."

"Then I won't be at dinner."

"Anna, please be reasonable. We are both adults, we can solve this like adults. Don't take us back to where we were last summer." I can't help but feel empty when Anna is so angry at me. I didn't ask for this marriage. I am fighting for our parents' lives, and Anna has the audacity to be angry at me. I understand, of course, that Anna has no idea of what is happening behind the scenes of my engagement, the threats, and the punches.

"You be reasonable. I am doing what any sane person would do. He tried to _Kill _us, so why the hell are you going to dinner to talk about your engagement to him." Anna persists, her voice rising. "I can guarantee that I will not be at anymore meals and that I will not be at that sham of a wedding."

Dismayed I struggle for ground to stand on. I need an argument against this, because Anna is right, of course she is right. Hans is awful, Hans is vile, and Hans has our parents and cannot be trusted with their lives. "Anna, please, you don't understand." I turn to begging, unable to manage anything else.

"No." Anna declares. "I don't, so could you please explain it to me?" I have heard many a man say ignorance is bliss, Anna is ignorant of the shady dealings behind my engagement, she is ignorant to the dark shades a man can take when he wants something, but she is not living in bliss.

"You have to understand that I would never do anything to hurt you. All I want is to protect you." I try to explain with a shallow watery voice and knees that threaten to give out.

Anna is furious; her stance is intimidating and ready to attack. Her eyes burn in to me, telling me of the hate she feels. "Don't you dare pull that shit with me! Don't you dare pretend that this is all for me. You are being a sick selfish idiot and I will not excuse it." Anna is shouting by the last words. It sounds as if her lungs are being pushed to the absolute limit. I can spot tears trickling down her face; I feel my own slide down my cheeks. "Don't talk to me, because I cannot listen to another stupid excuse. That's all my childhood was Elsa, stupid lies and excuses about why I never saw you, and I refuse to do that again." She finishes with a shattered whisper.

I have to pull myself together. I have to stare down at my little sister, weeping, all because the ground is frosty and the air is chilled. My skin is pouring with power, the hall would be under five feet of snow had I let myself fall about like I wish I could. My mouth opens and I whisper vague promises to myself. I tell myself that I can be strong, that I will do what is right, and that this will all be worth it. Every promise that tumbles past my lips feels like a lie.

Heavy footsteps approach us, I do not dare look up to see what I suspect will be Han's livid face. "My god, what happened here?" It is Kasper, his voice softer and more compassionate than Hans's could ever sound. I cannot make a sound; my throat has dried up and closed over, prohibiting the ejection of false explanations. Before Kasper can stop her Anna flees, her feet nearly tripping over themselves as she runs blindly down the halls and away from me.

I cannot bring myself to look at him, I cannot force myself to speak to him, yet somehow I find the strength to throw my arms around him. He is startled at first, but wastes little time wrapping me in his arms. Nonsense bust from the throat, mingled bits of explanation, and half-formed phrases get blurted into his shoulder.

He is not saying anything; no claims that everything is ok, because it is not ok. He is not promising a better tomorrow, because I cannot fathom a world where tomorrow is any better than today. The one thing he is doing is holding me, one arm around my waist, so delicately as if I may break. The other up against my back, fingers splayed, a friendly pressure telling me that he is here and I can cry.

What Kasper must think, he finds me in the middle of the hallway, screaming at Anna and crying like a babe. I have scarcely felt more pathetic than I do now. All around us is snow, why is their snow inside? I shift my feet and discover that they are stuck with frost. Oh no, no, no. I pull myself from Kasper's grasp and survey the damage.

He's fine?

He has frosty clothes, but does not shiver and shake. Instead he looks at me with worry.

"What?" I stammer uselessly. "How are you not cold?"

"Elsa, I live farther north than you realize, every minute of every day is colder than the average man can imagine, I'm used to it." Kasper explains, with a vague sweep of his hands to indicate the snow in the hallway.

Of course, how did I not realize.

"Are you ok to go to dinner?" Kasper asks. "Hans sent me to find you, he's getting anxious."

I have forgotten about dinner, it slipped my mind and was replaced with shouting, screaming, and hugs that seem to perfect. "Dinner." My voice comes forth as a raspy whisper. "We should get going." My voice no longer speaks with the pain of my broken family, or my forced engagement. I have pushed the emotion from my mind and refuse to let it stray back in.

Kasper stares at me with a ludicrous expression, he can tell I am in no state to go to dinner, anyone could tell. I have to go to dinner though. Hans will have a field day if I skip a meal when we have guests to impress.

So I set out on my way ignoring the urge to run, the urge to leave, because I know those actions will be met with punishment, whether the repercussions reach me or my parents first is irrelevant. Kasper follows behind me with timid footsteps, as if he expects me to fall over crying. It is not unreasonable I suppose, I was crying, but I am not now. I cannot afford to cry. My chin rises and I keep my shoulders back. Anna may not be at dinner, but many other people are; people I have to impress, people I have to please.

As I push through the double doors to the dining hall I take in the room. The table is blessedly empty, meaning that I am still only fashionably late. My usual spot lies waiting; the chair on Hans's left. Hans having taken my previous seat at the head of the table after our engagement was announced.

Covering my limp with controlled strides and a mask of placidity I make my way toward the table, offer thin greetings to those who offer them to me and apologize for my tardiness. I slide in to my chair without trouble and Kasper does the same. Conversation starts and I allow my presence to be enough, people do not care what I say when Hans is around, they hang on to his words because he is to be the king, and I am the queen the he ignores unless the situation demands otherwise.

Kai and an army of scullery staff break out from the kitchens bearing countless trays. Roast beef and elaborate fish dishes are placed along the table. My eyes settle on the steaming bowl of mashed potatoes. The clatter of utensils fighting for food fills my ears. Gentle munching of jaws settles in to the room and I take several bites of fish.

The meal passes with little problem, Hans spearheads the socializing campaign and I play the part of a perfect, quiet wife. Kasper sends me several worried side glances, but I stare in to my plate, determined to ignore him.

"Elsa, honey, you were asked a question."

I jerk my head as Hans brings me back to reality with sharp sickly sweet words. A woman, Helen, is looking at me. "What flowers are you going to use as center pieces?" centerpieces? As if I would know anything about the centerpieces, I know nothing about my wedding; I have planned none of it.

Scrambling for an answer I mime chewing and swallowing some food. "Snowdrops, they are my favorite kind of flower." I know that the centerpieces will not have Snowdrops in them, Hans will have picked some awful bright flower; some kind that is too overpowering and fills the room with thick sweetness.

Helen nods and moves on to another topic with another guest. I allow my mind to wander, and for a second I imagine what my wedding could be like. Had I been given any say the planning I would have ensured it was a small intimate affair, outdoors of course, in the snow if I could time it right.

Soon enough guest start to leave, all of them eager to get on with their evening activities. I bid every one of them a pleasant evening with a forced smile that threatens to fall of my face. Before long it is just Kristoff, Kasper, Hans, and I.

"Has anyone seen Anna?" Kristoff has given up all pretence of knowing where Anna is.

I make to answer, but Hans silences me with a small wave of his hand, letting me know that I am not allowed to speak. My eyes meet Kristoff's, and for a moment I hold his gaze, wishing I could let him know I had seen her, wishing I could tell him I was sorry for doing this to her.

"I saw her." Kasper interjects before Hans can write off the question as inconsequential. "She was up by the library. She looked a little sad." A little sad is a massive understatement, but only Kasper and I know that. Kristoff heads of to find her, worried as he always is that something might have happened to her.

"Kasper." Hans begins once Kristoff has left. "Have you found the city to be to your liking?" His tone is casual, perfect, and controlled.

"Quite." Kasper replies, taking a sip from his glass of white wine. "The culture is rich, the food is good, and the wine is excellent." He says the words so casually, a little too casually.

"Very good." Hans muses. "I never acquired a taste for white wine, always preferred the red kind." He lifts his glass, sips carefully and deliberately then replaces the goblet on the table. "Does your country take part in much trade Kasper?"

"No, not very much, we can get by on what we have. The cuisine may be a little repetitive, and the clothing choices may be a little similar and dull without some of the exotic fabrics I have seen here, but we cope with it." Kasper smiles slightly as he reflects upon the quaint quirks of his home.

"Would you be at all interested in negotiating a trade treaty between our nations?" Hans asks, leaning back in his chair, staring at Kasper over the rim of the wine glass he has once again brought to his lips.

"I would not be opposed to such agreements." Kasper is wary now, clearly having no experience, or training the in the art of negotiating.

"We can work out some reasonable trades later perhaps." Hans allows Kasper so time to mull over the idea. He is trying to come off and a reasonable and friendly person. "I hope you continue to enjoy your stay." Hans seems to have abandoned all pervious malice he showed toward Kasper on the night of our engagement party.

Hans is calling the shots now, and clearly feels more at ease when discussing something he is more accustomed to than Kasper. I note the way his hand stays on his wine glass, even though it is seated soundly on the table. His Hand is above the opening and traces cocky circles along the lip.

I gaze down at the empty place mat in front of me. With my food gone I no longer have an easy distraction from Hans.

"Elsa." Kasper is addressing me, his voice honest. "Are you ok?"

I stare up at him. I have never been less ok, but I'll be damned before anyone finds out. So I lie, I lie so easily. "Of course, there is nothing quite like a good meal to finish off a lovely day." The words do not feel like my own, they are not my own. I have never cared about good food, food is food. Why should how good it is ruin or make my day?

Kasper nods, clearly not believing me.

Has seems pleased enough with my answer.

"Elsa dear, it is getting late and you know how you get when you haven't had enough sleep." Hans prompts my departure. I jump at the opportunity to leave and clamor from my seat, scraping the legs against the ground and making altogether too much noise. For several steps I forget to mask my limp. I pass through the door way and in to the hallway before I remember that I am meant to be in perfect health.

I hurry thought the corridors, pretending that if I make it to my room within the next few seconds Hans will not be able to follow through twenty minutes later. My limp forces me to be slower than I wish to be. Regardless I still make it through my doorway in good time.

It is still raining, louder here than in the dining hall. The noise drowns out my frantic breathing. Today has not been a good day. Anna hates me; she hates me without reserve, and for good reason. She has every right to yell, scream, and demand an explanation, but I cannot give her one without risking the lives of our parents, and her own.

Eventually the inevitable occurs. First I hear the soft sound of well-polished boots hitting the ground, then the smooth hand against the door knob. The elaborate wood work of my door swings away and reveals a perfectly poised Hans. He is particular about what people get to see. If anyone were to happen upon this sight it would seem so innocent, he is just here to say goodnight. I wish with a thousand falling stars that he was only here to say goodnight.

I must have made a mistake during dinner, or maybe I was later than I thought. It must be that, I was too late, my fight with Anna happened in a daze and I cannot be sure how much time it ate up. My shoulders tense at the door closes behind Hans, the moment that door closes is the moment I am entirely at his mercy.

"Elsa, what have I told you about being on time. You wouldn't want our guests to think badly of you, would you?" Han is angry. I can see it in the pressure of his steps, and I can sense it in the base of his spine. His posture is aggressive; he could leap at me with the pressure coiled in his back.

I start to apologize but he cuts me off. "And your parents, what would they think if they knew you took this situation with such a lax attitude that you dare be late to dinner."

He has paced around my room while issuing his warnings, but now he comes to an abrupt stop in front of me. "Should I tell them?" He stares at me with mock innocence. "Should I tell mummy and daddy that you don't care about them enough to be on time for meals? Do they mean that little to you?"

I cannot stand to hear those vile thoughts spoken aloud by a man who had no right to so much as think them. "Shut up." My voice is nothing more than a weak whisper, but I know that what I have to say after will be stronger and louder. "You will not say such things; you know that they are not true."

"Don't." Has warns.

"Do you want to know why I was late? I was fighting with Anna, she doesn't believe this." I want to scream the words, but know that it would attract too much attention from other residents of the castle.

"Clearly you're not doing a good enough job." Hans retorts. "Your acting is poor at best; I've seen whores who were better at faking."

"You snivelling bastard. I've driven my sister away from me because of you. What more do you want."

My behaviour earns me a rare sharp smack to the cheek. Hans has typically been careful about leaving visible bruises.

"I don't want to hear another word from you. Ok?" Hans does not leave me time to answer before continuing. "Your sister doesn't matter; I am the one who can lop of your fathers head with a flick of his wrist. That's right, I have men watching me all the time, and they know exactly what to look for, all I need to do is give then the signal and you don't have a daddy anymore."

My eyes meet his ruthless green ones and in a fit of rebelliousness I say things I instantly regret. "You're a bastard. I don't know where our parents went wrong, but somehow the turned you in to a shallow breath of what a real man is, you will never be a king, even if through some fluke you get the title you are not capable of running a country, you would need far more common sense than you have."

Hans does not lose his head as I thought he would, but instead whispers softly in to my ear. "You may think I lack common sense, but you're the one with a fresh bruise on her cheek and a sister that wishes you dead."

He leaves without any other words or slaps, no hits or kicks. I consider myself lucky as a force myself to get in to bed, telling myself that everything will be fine and I am worry too much about so little.

My sheets are smooth and reassuring against me and my pillow eases my head from a long day. It occurs to me that the soothing rhythmic pounding of rain is comparable only to the silence of snow.

* * *

**So, what did you think? I have most of the next chapter written (which happens to be the wedding) so I'll upload that on Tuesday. **

**Thank you to everyone that Favorited and Followed. **

**Thank you trooper17 for reviewing. **


	17. Chapter 17

**Hi, I don't really wanna spoil anything, so just read. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own frozen.**

* * *

I wake up far too early. My mind snaps from a dreamless sleep and into the world without a moment to adjust. Fingers clutch my chest, looking down I realize they are my own. My heart is beating so fiercely that I can feel the quick pulses under my fingertips and hear then rushing about in my ears.

With several moments my breathing and my heart return to normalcy. I search the room for a reason to my abrupt, panic driven, awakening, but find none. My windows are all shut and locked. As is my door, though I am not foolish enough to think that those obstacles would deter Hans from breaking in to my room as I sleep. They only serve as confirmation that he has not attempted such tonight.

Then I spy the dress. It sits on a form, mocking me with its tight stiff fabric. My wedding is in several hours. I suppose that was the cause of my rude awakening. The awful ring on my finger has become rather heavy as this realization crashes over me. I do not want to get married, not to Hans.

I allow myself one moment of weakness as a give out, fall against my mattress, and let out a strangled cry. My fist bunch up in my blankets and I am overcome with the urge to never move again, to stay in a fortress of pillows and silky sheets for the rest of my life. Knowing that I will have to get up a pledge myself to a man who has my parents locked up in a cell is enough to make me lose my head.

With time the sun rises and even eyes squeezed shut cannot blot out the start of the day. My legs protest as a drag myself across my room toward the dress. It as if my entire body is fighting against this wedding, as if it knows how bad of an idea this is and how it can end only in pain.

I struggle into the dress, wishing for an extra set of hands as my feet get caught in the folds of fabric and my elbows make it nearly impossible to shimmy in to. If only Anna was here, shouldn't she be part of my wedding? Too bad she cannot stand to be near me.

My heart struggles to maintain composure. With my dress plastered to my frame and displayed on the mirror in front of me I feel so alone. I am an idiot, I drove away my sister on the vague hope that I would get my parents back. How could I not though? If Anna had any reason to think that I had forgone our parents to selfishly keep her friendship she would hate me more than she does now, if that is possible.

Falling, my feet are falling against the ground as a pace through my room. Can I really do this? Will I be able to force myself down the aisle without so much as a friendly face beside me? Anna refuses to attend, my father cannot, and neither can my mother. The three most important people in my life will not be at my wedding, one by choice and the others by chains.

My dress itches. Is that a quality associated with all wedding dresses, or only the ones a person is forced in to via blackmail. Everything is tight and itchy, even the chest feels constricted and tense. Though I fear that has less to do with the dress, and more with what I am about to do in it.

A sharp rapping comes from my door and I shore up my posture and keep a hard mask of peace on my face as I allow the knocker to enter my room. Gerda walks in. She has a somber expressing hidden underneath her smile. She was present and well aware of the events following my coronation. She knows exactly how they played out and must know that there is more to this wedding than meets the eye, because she has never said anything about it aside from small pleasantries and simple conversation when Hans is present.

She does not waste her time offering me worthless chatter; we both know that a few false words will not make this any better. I watch her as she steps across my room and reaches for the gloves I have left folded on my desk. They are a necessary evil.

Holding them out in front of me she says two small words that do not help at all, but are appreciated nonetheless.

"Good luck."

I want to fall, I want for my legs to stop working and never move again. I want my head to be lopped off by a sword, anything that will postpone this wedding for even a day. Gerda watches as a take the gloves and slide them on. I suppose they fit like their namesake if only for the fact that they are actual gloves; in reality they are too tight, too constricting.

With a final glance at my room and my life without Hans as a husband I step through the door. Each step is torturous. My stomach feels as if it is going to fall out of my throat. I count myself lucky that I could not manage to even think of having breakfast, had I eaten anything I am sure it would be on the floor by now.

This is it, I'll walk in to the cathedral, the same place I had my coronation. Thousands of eyes will watch me, eyes I do not know and do not love. Then I well walk, I hope I can be strong enough to take proud defiant steps, but I know they will be shaky and weak. I doubt good fortune will keep me from tripping.

Hans decided that I will not have to privilege of being given away, not by my father, not by my mother, not even Anna was considered. He seems more and more fixated on sending a message, as if walking down an aisle alone will make me give up a submit to his will completely. Though my feet may shake I will look him in the eyes with a steely resolve. I will never give him the pleasure of seeing me break.

Gerda stops me; her hand reaches for my elbow, likely and attempt at comfort that she thought better of. I cannot help but think her trepidation wise. My powers feel as though a soft breeze could set them off. Though I am wearing gloves they no longer offer much protection, my powers have evolved past them, and now they only serve as to put others at ease.

Her face is somber as she hands me a bright cheery bouquet which I am forced to take with me.

Horrid organ music has begun to play, that is my cue. Wishing I could muster the energy to offer Gerda a kind smile I push past the double doors of the cathedral. Every head in the citadel turns to face me. Some faces have happy tears running down them, some wear soft kind smiles. I wish I could shout, scream, and explain to everyone why this is happening.

Turning my gaze away from the unjustly excited guests Ilook see Hans and the bishop waiting for me at the end of my death march. Hans is dressed in the colors of the Southern Isles, his formal coat pressed and starched. Light glints off of his polished gold cuff links and the buttons of his jacket.

I am sure if my shoes fell off they would reveal lead feet, my knees rebel and my ankles threaten to snap. Walking suddenly seems impossible, but I have to. Hans's eyes are threatening, with everyone watching me he is free to drop the mask of graceful humility and take on his more threating identity. My grasp tightens on the bouquet.

After what feels like far too long and far too many steps I reach the base of the altar. My palms are slick with a panicked sweat and my pulse thunders through my ears. I take the last step towards hell and turn to look it straight in the eyes. Handing off my bouquet to someone by my side prompts the bishop in to starting the ceremony.

He paddles on about love, devotion, sanctity and many other things I wish I could listen to, but Hans is watching me. His eyes sharp and deadly, taunting me, reminding me that this is the end, that I have given up and will not know happiness ever again.

The ceremony continues on and I continue to ignore it. I have to force myself to breathe. Taking in air has suddenly become a chore I feel far too tired to continue with. My chest in tight and tears threaten to spill from my eyes, I cannot tell whether they are tears of sadness, or rage. I am inclined to believe it is a mixture of both.

Hans finished off his vows and flashes me a triumphant smile. The bishop prompts me in to starting my own seeing as my mouth has decided to glue itself shut. "I Elsa, Queen of Arendelle, take you to be my-." The words sting and insult the air in which they rest so heavily. I glance away from Hans's face, desperate to see any other set of eyes. My mouth works on its own, pledging me to Hans on its own accord.

Anna? Why do I see Anna's eyes staring back at mine from a sea of anonymous faces? She does not smile, but her face is subtle and sincere, she knows that regardless of the groom this is my wedding. Her eyes do bear a hidden sadness; I wish I was not the cause of it. "-as long as we both shall live."

I let my voice fall away and silence claims the room for a moment before the bishop carries on with the ceremony. My hands have started to shake, I know what part comes next and I wish it would not. "Do you, Hans of the Southern Isles, take Elsa Queen of Arendelle to be your wedded wife?"

Hans turns to me and his face is the perfect mask of tender love and fierce devotion. "I do."

"Do you, Elsa Queen of Arendelle, take Hans of the southern Isles to be your wedded husband?"

This is it, the moment everyone is waiting on pincushions to hear. I have to say it, I know I do, but I wish with everything I am that I could do anything else. Anna's face swims in to my gaze again and I remember why I am standing here, and why I have not yet sentenced Hans to a long lonely life in prison.

"I do."

There it is, what is done is done. I can never take that back and I will never get the chance. Keeping Hans happy is my only goal now. If Hans has a placid smile on his face my parents get to struggle through another day.

The bishop pronounces us man and wife and I clench my fists just a bit tighter. Hans is facing me now, victory and arrogance displayed easily in his features. His hand comes to take one of mine while the other reaches back to rest against the small of my back. He has me trapped. With a spiteful glint in his eye he leans in a kisses me.

It is a short and chaste kiss, or that is want it must look like, I feel wholly violated though. He is too close and his breath is sour and hot. It is over fast, but still last far longer than I would wish. Somewhere in the back of my head, behind the relevant fears and terrors in the face of my married life I realize that I have just had my first kiss.

Han's pulls away and wastes no time turning toward the attendees and smiling a warm smile. He has won; he has well and truly won. I am his. The law now names me as his wife. We walk back along the aisle, his stride confident, mine weak and trembling.

I am swept up in congratulations the moment I walk from the room. Staff smiles at me and nobles offer sweet words and blessing of all sorts. A mass of hands and bodies corral me in to a lavishly decorated dining hall. I have to sit through another awful dinner, how spectacular.

Hundreds of dishes have been prepared and hundreds of eager mouths lay in wait. In a moment of grace and kindness Hans has seated me next to him at the head of the table. Our chairs are close, far too close. As we settle in to our seats I feel his thigh brush against mine and his arm comes to rest on it. He is keeping me under control, telling me that my parents are still very much as stake and if I want them to keep their heads I best keep mine.

The meal starts with a quick toast to our health and happiness by someone I do not know. Then the clatter of cutlery fills the room along with gentle conversation and chewing. Only a meal and a dance, then my duties will be done. I will be free to retire for the night and suppress my tears and terrors at the prospect of my future.

There is no flavor to the food I force down my throat. I am sure it had been cooked with the up most care and with the finest spices, but I am rather preoccupied with things other than slow braised ham. Anna is siting several seats away and has cast wayward glances at me while picking at some roasted vegetables. She looks out-of-place. The circles under her eyes are still all too present; her frame is so tiny next to the bulky dignitaries, she looks fragile.

Once bellies are full and the guest sedated Hans stands and announces that he and I are to have our first dance as a married couple, as is tradition in Arendelle weddings. My stomach clenches. I cannot dance, I do not dance. I am even more sure that I cannot dance with Hans's hand wrapped tight around my waist.

I do though. I Step away from the fortress that is my chair to stand in an empty dance floor with Hans. Hans has become the bane of my existence. My feet decide that I should just get this over and bring me closer to him. His too hot hands come to rest against the curve of my waist. The organ player starts up again, this time in the dining hall, and on a piano as opposed to the aforementioned instrument.

We step with awful rhythm. Every part of me is numb, I am getting are too used to the ever-present numbness. Hans is irritated; I can see the careful and always calculated look in his eyes give way to frustration. I am not dancing well enough. He pulls me close, the darkness in his eyes spreading to his other features now, his hand sharp and demanding on my back. Then his breath is in my ear. What could he possibly have to say at a time like this, in front of so many people? He takes a small breath and then speaks.

"I killed your father."

It is several steps before the words give way to their meaning. No, no, no. I have done everything asked of me without complaint. I sat though dinners, and played my part the best I could. Why is my father dead because of this? How will I ever tell Anna? They are her parents too and I failed them. I failed them.

My steps falter; Hans seems to have expected as such and manages to catch me by digging his sharp fingers in to my back. His eyes are back to kind and warm. I want to freeze him. I want him lying on the ground, nothing but ice. Though, I am not sure if I could freeze his heart given as I do not believe he has one.

I feel it boiling within me, snow and ice struggle to break free and wreak havoc among the guests and my new husband. Fora single moment I am tempted to let it. Then I remember my mother. She is still there, on a boat, alone. If not for myself I have to be strong for her. She cannot be anything other than scared, or maybe she is not. I have fond memories of her subtle and unyielding strength.

I have to dance for her.

* * *

**Let me know what you thought by dropping a review. **

**Thank you to elsa lover for reviewing. If i have to be 3rd to anyone those guys aren't half bad. **

**Also I'll be updating on Sunday with my next chapter. So watch out for that because it is a biggy. **


	18. Chapter 18

**Attention:**** THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS NON-CONSENSUAL SEX. Please, if you are not comfortable reading this or if this may act as a trigger please do not read this chapter. I have struggled with whether or not to include this scene for a while now, and ultimately decided that in the grand scheme of things this is very important, however you do not _need_ to read it if you do not want to. I have done my best to focus on emotions and thoughts as opposed to graphic descriptions. If you chose not to read this chapter you can find a quick synopsis in the authors note at the bottom of the chapter. Please understand that I in no way condone the actions of Hans and know that I can in no way truly understand the plight of a rape victim.**

**On a slightly lighter note, I finally got an amazing piece of cover art from the vastly talented Trooper17. Be sure to thank her with a review. **

**-Whovian123**

* * *

The wedding continues on without incidents, though my inability to think and breathe properly may be the reason I do not start yelling at and freezing everyone in attendance. I cannot think, not in coherent thoughts. My mind flits through panic and rage. Hans killed my father for no reason. My father is dead simply because Hans could kill him.

My feet have given up and I rely on Hans to drag me from happy guest to happy guest. The laughter and joy feel like a slap to the face. How can anyone be happy when my father has just been killed? The man who raised me had his life ended too abruptly and too soon because I slipped up. I am not sure what I got wrong, but there must have been something.

With time guests leave and the music dies down. Before long Hans has decided that it is time for us to depart. I offer timid "thank you's" and a slight nod in Anna's direction before I am hauled out of the room and along a corridor by Hans's obtrusive grip. I assumed that I would be allowed to return to my room one the farce of a wedding was over, apparently not.

I consider asking where I am being taken, but realize that I am not in a position to ask questions. Hans has just displayed his affliction for violence and ending people's lives, if what he says does in fact turn out to be true. I cannot possibly wish hard enough that Hans is lying. He has no proof, he has only a cowardly whisper in front of thousands, thousands whom would find the sight of me freezing him cause for alarm. He must be lying.

I tell him so.

"What?" He growls as his steps come to a startling halt.

"My father, I don't believe that you killed him." I say, my voice starting in an uneven whisper and settling in to a somewhat confident rasp.

"Oh, you don't do you?" Hans tightens his grip on my arm. "You are my wife now and it will do you good if you do not question the things I say." He then twists the doorknob of the door behind him and jostles me in to the darkness. My feet hit the edge of a rug and I stumble further in to the room. The windows show no moonlight for it is hidden behind angry clouds and rumbling thunder. I feel a sharp wooden corner scratch across my thigh; wrapping my fingers around it I anchor myself beside what must be a desk.

Hans is a menacing silhouette in the door way for only a moment; then he fumbles with a lamp and manages to strike a match. The look on his face makes me wish he could have stayed a silhouette. I know I am in trouble, the fierce sneer on his face tells me such, though what trouble I have to face remains unclear.

The lamp is placed on a table, next to a large polished silver platter with a cover concealing its contents. I ignore it, determined to extract the truth from Hans. "My father isn't dead, is he? You're lying so I don't try anything stupid." I wish my voice could be stronger.

"Elsa, please, I do not bluff." Hans drawls. As he moves farther in to the dim room I analyze where I am.

A bedroom? It is a bedroom that I do not recognize. I have never ventured in to this part of the castle. The windows are small and meager, a single door leads out to what I can only assume is a balcony. Hans ignores all the finer furnishings of the room and focuses on me instead. His eyes are shaded by the uneven light, and for that I am thankful. I cannot imagine being able to hold my ground if could see their horror.

"What now?" I ask, angry that Hans insists he is not lying. Furious that Hans will not tell me that this is all and awful and elaborate joke.

"I am, alone, with my wife, on our wedding night. Take a wild guess." Hans closes the door.

It only dawns on me what Hans means when he is standing on front of me, long awful and disfiguring shadows stretching across his features. My hand frantically grasps the table corner. "No."

"No? Elsa, I think you are missing the point. This is not about you; none of this is about you. I am king, and to ensure my legacy I need a son." Hans is not coy, he is abrupt and demanding.

I take a step back, reeling with terror. No, no, no. Hans has had his way every time he wants something. I relent always; I will not this time. My feet carry me across the room, keeping my eyes on Hans I make my way across the room, desperate to put in obstacle in between us. The bed is easy enough to get on the other side of.

With my hands raised in front of me and my mind frantically struggling to reach my powers Hans strolls toward the desk. His body is lean and sculpted, I am not stronger than him, I need the power of ice; now more than ever.

The silver platter is reflecting morphing impressions of shallow light and Hans's malicious face. His fingers slide under the platter and pick it up with a swift deliberate motion. His hand comes up to grasp the lid and he pulls it away to reveal what lays on the platter.

I throw up.

Doubled over with my hands against the bed and my head bowed to stare at the pool of sick on the floor I hear Hans stroll over to me. He squats down beside me and lowers the platter until it is in front of my face.

My father's head lies on the polished silver; his eyes are open and hold an emptiness that wrenches my soul in a thousand directions. His body is somewhere else. This is wrong, his body should be attached to his head, and he should be smiling the understanding warm smile of my childhood.

"Please." I splutter, wiping my mouth and struggling back to my feet. My stomach churns and threatens to send me to my knees again. "Please."

"_Please."_ Hans's voice mocks with a sharp inflection. "Do you realize how pathetic you are? How pathetic your father thought you were?"

That is it; Hans has my father's head on a platter and still cannot give the man a modicum on respect and peace. I whip around to face him and lash out my fist toward his face. I can feel the heat radiation from him, my hand is stopped centimeters from his face. His reflexes worked faster than I can see in the dark and my wrist is in his grasp.

"Don't you dare." Hans warns.

"Leave me alone. I married you, is that not enough?" I demand. I regret it instantly.

Hans tightens his grip on my wrist and twists sending my body to an awkward angle as I attempt to avoid broken bones. I cannot manage a broken bone on my own, I would need a doctor and I cannot explain away a broken arm to a doctor.

The clatter of metal rings in my ear as Hans tosses the platter, and my father's head, over his shoulder and on to the floor. Pain becomes apparent in my ribs as Hans sends his fist in to them. I collapse, but Hans's grip on my wrist proves enough to keep me hanging by my arm.

Everything stops. The pain becomes startlingly irrelevant. Hans has his hand on my shoulder now, and his fingers are pushing my dress away from my body and on to the floor. Within a fraction of a second my mind is back and running twice as fast, pushing and punching. Hans is a wall though, a wall with a purpose.

The laces of my corset prove to be an easily defeated obstacle. I reel my hand back in a second attempt at slapping Hans, this time I get away with it, though I wish I had not.

Darkness, a primal darkness falls across Hans's eyes. "This will be easier if you don't struggle." His voice is detached and cool. He pulls my, now, unlaced corset from my body and forces me against the mattress, his bulky mass keeping me down. Next off is my chemise. It is easy enough to slip over my head with minimal ripping, despite my frantic arms and desperate legs.

"No." I insist. "Get off of me." I try to thrash my knees around in a vain attempt gain any upper hand possible. My powers have abandoned me. I search my mind for them but cannot coax a simple snowflake in to existence. I am powerless and the feeling of being so makes me want to rip at my hair and run away. The firm and stinging grip on my wrist reminds me that I cannot.

Livid and modified at the prospect of Hans succeeding in his endeavor I channel everything I have into pulling my powers out of the dark corner they have receded in to. They do not stir. They are scared, frozen by fear and too petrified to rescue me. My stomach drops and my breathing quickens. I cannot get out of this. I need to get out of this, but my powers are as good as useless.

Hans's face has formed in to a blank mask. He works with precision, stripping me of my remaining undergarments and sending them to some obscure corner of the ghostly room. I scream and shout. Desperate for anyone to hear, until I realize no one will be around. Even if I am heard no one would be surprised to hear loud cries coming from a newly married couple's bedroom.

I hear the rustle of pants, and then it stings, burns, rips, and crushes all at once. My mind is blank and suddenly I am not myself anymore. I cannot be myself, this is not happening to me. This cannot happen to me. My wrist does not burn as his hand clenches and his muscles spasm. My stomach does not sting as his free hand ranks angry marks across it, and my soul does not shatter as he takes away the only thing I have left.

With a guttural noise Hans rolls off of me and let's go of my wrists. Though I am no longer pinned down I feel stuck. If I move this is real, if I move I have to deal with the consequences. I cannot deal with the consequences. My hands are shaking and my throat burns with wails and sobs that cannot come forth. Snow, snow is meant to protect me, ice shields me. The one time in my life I would welcome an uncontrollable burst of ice, and all I can manage is to be slightly colder than I am typically.

Heat, heat is coming off of Hans in waves.

I need to leave.

I stumble from the bed, then trip in to what remains of my under clothes. My hands reach for the door and I am pushing my way out. I cannot hear over the erratic thuds of my heart. This is not happening, this did not happen, not to me. My sweaty palms drag against my chemise and dig my biting fingernails in to the flesh of my palms. Heartbeats drown out the sounds of Hans's easy breathing and the sound of my own, far coarser, breaths. Tripping once again over the edge of the rug I bolt. I do not bother with shoes, they seem a strange notion as I cannot feel any part of myself, my feet included. The hallway blurs in a mix of threatening tears and disjointed thoughts. This cannot be happening, this does not happen, not to me.

In my haze of thought and panic I remember that there are guests milling about the castle and that I still have to convince them. I still have to play my part. My part does not end with my father's life. I still have to play the wife for my mother's sake, for Anna's sake. In light of the failure I inflicted upon my father I know that I cannot let anything else happen, and I will make sure nothing else happens at all costs.

Bursting through the first door I can find, and in to the razor night air does not help. I cannot feel the chill, not just in the usual way I cannot feel it. Instead of the comforting normalcy I gain from chilly weather I am left hot and scrambled. I promise myself that I will not cry; crying is what happens when you give up. I cannot give up.

The gravel does not bite at my unprotected feet. My toes are too numb to register pain. My whole being is far too numb to register injury; physical, or mental. My head does not think, I cannot allow it to think.

I simply run.

Tripping and stumbling I make my way to the edge of the gardens, enormous pines cast shadows on an already nightmarish night. My legs give out and I fall to the ground. I cannot move, I cannot think, I can hardly find the strength to breathe. Contacting all at once my muscles pull me into a fetal position. Curled up in myself I can pretend that I am fine. I can pretend that is did not happen.

"Elsa?"

Startled at the realization that I am not alone I scramble at the ground, desperate to at least sit up straight and seem presentable, or anything less pathetic than broken. Kasper is sitting at the base of the tallest pine. His face alarmed and his eyes worried.

"Are you ok?" The question is a mighty one. Of course I am not, what bloody fool would be, but I cannot say anything. I want too. I want to speak the truth. If I take the thundering guilt off my chest maybe I can take back what I just did, what was done to me.

"I'm fine." My voice acts of its own accord. "We got in to a fight." The explanation is weak at best. Kasper does not believe me, it is written across his face. He lets me hide behind the story though, he does not push, and he does not pry. He lets me stay on the ground, breathing all too raggedly, and looking all too dishevelled, but only for a moment, then I am covered in his coat. He has shrugged it off and cast it over my shoulders in a bid to protect me from the cold.

"I don't feel the cold." I offer desperately stifling the sobs that refuse to fester in my chest anymore.

"It's not for the cold."

I nod a pathetic nod, then pull my knees into my body and refuse to make eye contact with him.

"Tomorrow will be better." Kasper's attempt at comfort is so wildly inadequate, yet it almost helps. In my mind I know that my life is ruined. I am set to live a shallow half-life of lies and pain, but is does not matter. For a shadow of a second I let my heart believe in the false mantra of the sun coming out and the world shining brighter within a single night. I give in to the hope and let my head fall back to watch the clouds rolling across the sky.

* * *

**Synopsis:**** The wedding comes to an end with Elsa reeling from Hans's claim, as Hans drags her through hallways she decides that he cannot be telling the truth. Hans forces Elsa in to a bedroom and proves that he has in fact killed her father by showing Elsa his disembodied head. Hans then forces Elsa in to non-consensual sex. Once Hans is done with her she takes to the gardens and runs in to Kasper who makes an attempt at comforting her. **

**So? I am very worried about backlash for this one. I understand that rape is awful and that I likely did an awful job at writing it.**

**Next chapter will be up for Friday. **

**Thank you to everyone that reviewed, followed, and favorited. **

**Laurenisahippogriff: Thank you. I don't have a uploading schedule that is set in stone, though I will say in the authors note when the next chapter will be up, and it rarely takes longer than 6 days, or a week. **

**Atlantis4ever: Thank you very much, you can expect to get a little more Olaf in the coming chapters.  
**

**imea619: Yeah things are not very cheery for Elsa right now, and defiantly are not getting much better any time soon if this chapter is any indication. Also thank you. **

**someone: Thank you. **

**Guest: I know! It's amazing! **

**-Whovian123**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you all for the positive response to the last chapter, I know it was a tragic thing and cannot thank you enough for the encouraging reviews. (I was so very worried about backlash.) **

**I don't have much to say about this chapter, luckily no warnings, I not think there will be anything else that toes the line as violently as rape does, but if there is I will warn you. **

**Please enjoy this next chapter. **

**Disclaimer. I do not own Frozen, all rights belong to the proper owners. **

* * *

The muscles in my neck and shoulders resist the wave of awareness which threatens to bring me back to the land of the conscious. I shrug, then realizing that I shrugged in to a coat which seems to be hanging loosely off my shoulders, I open my eyes. The world around me is lit with the ambient light of a heavily overcast and threateningly rainy day.

The light stings my eyes and I shut them, but as the blackness slides over my vision so do the memories of last night slide across my mind. Suddenly my eyes are welling up for a reason other than the stinging sun. I pull the jacket tighter around me, hugging myself and ignoring the world around me.

Raw, my throat feels raw. My efforts to trap my sobs in my chest have left them with no past time other than to tear at the walls for my throat, and rip at the sides of my lungs. I force my eyes shut just a little tighter as the memory of Hans's fingers against my skin forces itself to the forefront of my mind.

I spring from my fetal position and land in my feet faster than I thought possible. My skin crawls with the recollection of last night. "Elsa?" Kasper's voice asks from beside me, echoing his question from last night. He reaches out a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

I jerk away, my hands flying out in front of me and my powers springing in to merciful life. Kasper is blown to the ground by the barrage of snow that falls from my palms.

Breathe, I have to remember to breathe. When my chest remembers that rising and falling keeps me alive its does just that. Though it is an aggressive ragged breath which sends me too my knees. "Sorry, I didn't mean too." I cannot look at Kasper as I attempt to apologize. The poor man must be sprawled against the already wintery ground, and coated in a fresher, more magical, layer of snow.

"It's ok." I hear Kasper's voice, and it is not angry. He is not livid in the slightest.

I cannot keep myself from exclaiming. "What?"

"You seem stressed. I can't really blame you for slipping up once."

The idea is foreign to me. I hurt him, even if it is the type of hurt one can walk off without lasting effects. This is my fault. I let myself lose control. Why is Kasper not angry?

I wait, convinced that if I give him a moment Kasper will realize how angry he truly is and how at fault I am. While I stand, my arms still stretched in front of me acting as a fragile defence which I know is useless, I hear Kasper grunt and clamor to his feet. His boots scuff against the gravel and he stands, fully regaining his ground.

"Well, don't just stand there, you should get dressed for dinner." Kasper states far too calmly. Why is he calm? I raise my head in timid submission, curious as to the lack of yelling and hitting. He is standing, his face kind and his hand out stretched despite the fact that approaching me is what led to my outburst of ice.

I wave his hand away with frantic flicks of my wrist. I cannot have him touch me. Kasper places his hand in his pocket and nods, letting my actions go unexplained. In my haste to stand up and defend myself his jacket slid from my shoulders and landed in crumpled heap on the gravel. He swipes his arm down to pick it up, bats it with an open hand twice to shake away the loose stones and dust, and then offers it to me with a smile.

I shake my head. "I told you, I'm fine with the cold."

"Elsa, you're in your chemise." Kasper's cheeks take on a slight pink tint of embarrassment at having to point out my lack of clothing to me.

I take the jacket and pull it tight around my body. The idea of preserving my decency suddenly seems so worthless, but I follow along because to do anything else would be to draw unwanted attention to myself.

Kasper falls in to step beside me as I head back toward the castle. "Why were you outside last night?" I ask, unable to quell my curiosity.

"It got way too warm and stuffy in the dining room. I needed some air."

I nod, accepting the answer as a reasonable one.

"Why were you outside?"

The question, while reasonable, throws me for a loop. I do not know how to answer this. If I said what really happened last night it would open a whole world of questions I never want to answer.

"Like I said last night, I had a small fight."

"With your husband?"

"Yes."

Kasper pauses for a beat, letting the silence say what he does not want too. If we fought hours after our wedding how can a marriage last. Simple, it will not. I am sure now, that if I am to keep this up it will kill me. Though, if this means keeping Anna and my mother alive I will fight until the last moments. Regardless, the pain of last night leaves me thinking the world may not have as much joy as advertised.

Once at the entrance to the castle I reach for the door only to find Kasper's hand already there. He flashes a smile and opens it for me. I ease in to the entrance hall, afraid that I may wander in to guests. The high ceilings give way to an empty room, empty aside from several guards that linger in doorways while watching me out of the corners of their eyes.

Ignoring the world I trudge on through the hallways, desperate to shake to feeling of someone watching me from the shadows, desperate to forget the lingering touch of Hans's burning fingers. His eyes take over my vision in a haze of remembrance; they hold so much furry, determination, oppression. Somewhere in the back of my head I wonder how I slept at all last night, even now the thought of closing my eyes or letting my guard down for even the briefest of moments feels impossible.

Stumble, I stumble just a bit, enough for Kasper to reach out and take me elbow for fear of me falling. "Watch out." He warns, bringing me closer to him, keeping me up right.

I jerk against his arms, panicked. His mouth is moving. I can see it, and if I had the mind to focus I could have decoded the words, but in this moment I am too preoccupied trying to wrench free my arm. With a slight twist I feel the fingers slide from my arm and I lurch across the hallway. My breathing is all too fast and all too ragged again.

Kasper is stunned. He watches me from across the hallway. His body facing me and his arms raised in surrender. He deserves an explanation, but I will be dammed if I give an inch. I cannot manage to look away though, his eyes are not angry; his eyes are not like Hans's. These eyes are glacial and clam, Hans's burn with rage.

Shamefully I turn my head away from our confused staring match and continue down the hall. I hear Kasper's footsteps follow shortly after mine. My fists are clenched and hang by my sides, the tension that has found a nearly constant home in my shoulders has increased ten-fold, and my stomach hurts. The long rakes Hans left last night have welled up and sting.

With a tentative amount of relief I reach my bedroom door. Shrugging of the jacket I turn to hand it back to Kasper. He is utterly baffled; though looking at this morning and last night from his perspective proves that he has every right to be. I sigh and start apologizing.

"No." Kasper's voice cuts through my apologies' clearly and strong. "I have no idea what happened, but from what I gather it was bad. I can only hope that things get better." He drags his hand across his jaw line, rubbing this ever-present stubble.

He continues to ignore the jacket, refusing to take it even when a jostle it in front of him. "Don't you want this?" I ask, baffled.

"Not really, never fit me right, all too narrow in the shoulders and too short on the arms. It suits you better than it ever did me."

I nod, not quite registering in my head what is being said. My mind is stuck on thoughts of breakfast. How will I bear sitting next to Hans? Can I manage to skip breakfast? Could I skip breakfast for the rest of my life? That still leaves the all too important dinners I must attend. Countless meals in a sweaty room, perched on a chair, forcing food down my throat while Hans watches, goading me, showing me that no matter how hard I try, or how close to winning I think I am, he will always beat me.

My hand wrings the door knob to my room and I duck behind the door before I am forced to respond to whatever Kasper has been saying. I will not be able to form full sentences, my mind is in a thousand places at once and my heart threatens to stop. My knees give way to the pull of gravity and I find myself on the ground, clutching my raw stomach and retching with terror.

I tug at my hair, willing away the tears that threaten to spill on to my face. If the tears start falling I do not believe they will ever stop, and seeing as I have a breakfast of which I am already late for, that simply is not an option. Pulling myself from the floor I continue on, it has worked for me up until now, why would it suddenly stop.

My hands search for, and select a suitable outfit for breakfast, and with my gaze focused solely on a patch of carpet, I ignore my body. I cannot bear to look down and see the skin I know Hans has touched; the skin forever marred with the impurity of the nights events. The muscles in my jaw tighten and I ignore the full body mirror propped up in the corner.

Kasper is not outside my door, and for that I am grateful. The poor man has dealt with enough, soon he will set sail back to his home and I will have one less person to pretend for.

Breakfast is, mercifully, Hans free. I have missed him by several minutes and know that when we finally run into each other it will not be fun. Until such a time I force myself to think of other things.

Anna sits as far from me as the table allows, and refuses to as much as glance at me. The accepting demeanour she wore at my wedding is gone and has been replaced with the bitter anger and hurt of before. Remorse settles in to my chest. I feel guilty of course, the things I have put Anna though are inhumane to say the least, but the alternative is unthinkable.

The woman to my left, who I recognize as Helen, turns to me with a smile and a question on her lips. "How is married life?"

"Good." I cannot manage a longer response. The singular lie is so great that I cannot force out an anecdote. Thankfully Helen supplies one.

"It can have its trials. I had to leave my husband Frederick back home to keep the kingdom running smoothly and I cannot tell you have nice it is to be away from the nagging. Truth be told I think we were driving each other a little insane." Helen's attempt at lighthearted narratives is relaxing and insulting, relaxing because I do not have to supply sound to the quiet room, and insulting because I would give more than she can ever know for a marriage where my biggest problem was nagging.

I smile and nod.

Kasper is sitting rather far from me, he glances at me once and I see the worry in his eyes, but quickly dismiss it. He is not important, nothing is important anymore. The only purpose I have left is ensuring Anna's, and my mother's, safety.

The rest of the meal passes with quiet conversations among people other than me. Before long I realize that it can now be deemed acceptable for me to leave and get about my day. I bid farewells to the guests and make my exit. Once I am well out of any reasonable path they may take, I stop fighting.

My legs give out immediately and I fall against the wall of the hallway. My hands, which had instinctively risen to brace me, touch the wall and send long spikes of frost. I am sure it is snowing, the poor rug will be a mess by the time I manage to collect myself. I do not care though; my mind is clouded and confused. The flickering image of Hans's eyes is too much for me and I feel the power mounting in my chest. It stretches and swells against the fabric of my being, threatening to tear me to bits if I cannot bury it.

Footsteps echo in the halls and I become painfully aware that I must pull myself together or at least throw a façade on top of the mess I have become. I force myself to stand upright and will my eyes to cease their infernal leaking. Then, for the second time today, I hear my name being spoken in a horribly startled manner.

"Yes Anna?" I ask, she has stopped at the entrance to the hallway but soon takes tentative steps forward.

My façade is not good enough; she knows I am not ok. She can tell something is wrong. I wait in silence for her response, waiting for her to call me out and demand to know everything.

"I'm looking for Kristoff, have you seen him around?" Anna asks, still weary of me.

"No." I cannot afford anymore syllables, not without giving away far too much.

"Ok." Anna's voice is tense; it is as if she does not know what to say. How did we get to this point, where we see each other in the halls and cannot even will a smile to our faces?

"I'm sorry." I blurt it out before I can realize just how ridiculous it is. Anna is not in a position to forgive me. I would not forgive me if I were her. I have to try though, even if it is just two small words that are viewed as a joke of an apology.

"I don't care." Anna's voice stings more than anything in the past twelve hours has. "You have betrayed me and, unlike you, I don't forgive people who betray me."

"Anna." I begin not knowing what to say. My voice trails away in a pathetic plea.

"No." Anna shouts, rage bubbling to the surface of her face without warning. "You do not get to do that; do not act like you are the victim. You are not." I bow my head and study the rug. "You are nothing but a useless queen who handed over her country to a sociopath." Her eyes harden and I know she is going in for the kill. "You are nothing more than a frigid bitch."

I stagger back. It feels like a real blow, as if swords are tearing though my chest, or a battering ram has hit my stomach. Anna has always had a necessary restraint. She had too. When I get agitated my powers slip from my control and I can do things I regret, so Anna has always done her best, in the months following my coronation, to ensure I never felt threatened by anything to the point of no return.

Anna is on a roll now, like a snowball down a mountain. Every passing second she picks up more and more momentum. "You're an insult to the country our parents left behind and I am glad they don't have to see you drive us in to the ground."

"Please, Anna, don't say that." I am begging now, begging because I know it is true, every word is so completely true. "Please."

"Goddammit, NO." Anna yells at me, her voice straining. "NO, I am not forgiving you. You are whoring yourself out to the man who tried to kill me, that tried to kill you"

"Anna." Her name falls from my mouth. My voice sounds empty and hangs in the air for far too long. I do not beg anymore. I do not ask her for the acceptance I know she cannot give. She has given me so much I would feel like even more of a monster if I demanded anything else.

I hear her shoes slap against the floor as she runs, she runs down the hallway and away from me faster than I knew she could. My back comes to rest against the wall and I lean my weight in to it. Wrapping my arms around my waist I give in to the tears that have threatened me all morning.

* * *

**Please let me know what you thought with a review, that would make my day.**

**Next chapter will be up for Thursday. **

**jade254: Thank you very much. I must say, I am not to keen on reading rape either, I find it often gets thrown around without any of the consequences that would arise, mentally, from such an event. Also, I am sorry about killing off Elsa's father, I was always the plan, even from before I was posting.  
**

**guest: Thank you. I would never include rape in a story just to get some shock out of my readers. I respect you too much and and can assure you it was very integral to the story. **

**guest: Thank you, and yes, Kasper will continue to crop up. He, in many ways, will act as a foil to Hans. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you so much. I do my best to edit, but never manage to leave myself enough time for a thorough job, and have no clue how to go about acquiring a beta.  
**

**guest: Oh my god, you're eleven. I am so glad you didn't skip the warning. I doubt there will be anymore rape or sex. I don't plan on writing more. **


	20. Chapter 20

**Hullo gorgeous. I have a new chapter for you. It's a tiny bit slower than the last few. It's really just a chance to reestablish things as they are now given everything that's been going on. **

**-Whovian123 **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

In a desperate attempt to free myself from the ghost of the castle and the judging eyes of the paintings I take to the market place. Though the crowds and chatter set me on edge the cloak I have wrapped around myself muffles the noise and wards off being recognized.

Heat radiates from the tight packed bodies, and I am constantly being jostled. Opposed to my powers surging and threatening I find that the activities and warmth force it into disquiet numbness. My fingers, of their own accord, tighten in to sweaty fists.

Several gold coins clatter around in my pockets. I contemplate purchasing something, but everything seems so frivolous. Nothing will help my parents; nothing will help Anna, why should I waste my time on something that will not help them when they are both in such peril.

"Queen Elsa." My name is being called my by feet with a voice that can only belong to a child. Looking down I see Alex, the little bakers son, tugging at my skirts. "Queen Elsa, Do you remember me?"

Forcing my worry and turbulent state to the farthest corner of my mind I crouch down to answer Alex. "Of course I do. You're the sneaky little boy who likes running off without his mother."

Alex looks at his shoes bashfully.

"Have you lost her again?"

"Yes."

"Would you like some help finding her?"

"Yes please Queen Elsa." Scooping the young boy in to my arms and setting him against my hip I look around, trying to catch a glimpse of his mother.

My eyes are met with something far from a worried mother.

Hans is stalking toward me, his eyes alight with furry and his step so threatening I worry that Alex may soon start to feel rather cold. I panic for several moments, running is out of the question, for I am holding a boy, and while my outfit is tailored for blending in, Hans is dressed in a flashy and un-ignorable manner.

"What are you doing here?" Hans seethes in my ear.

"I was taking a walk," I explain with as much composure as I can manage. "when Alex found me and asked if I could help him find his mother."

Hans looks at me as if I am failing to comprehend the most basic of concepts." You do not leave the castle unless accompanied by me, or unless I authorize it."

"What?" Alex asks from my arms clearly confused and slightly fearful of Hans's tone.

"None of your business." Hans growls at Alex.

"Don't talk like that to Queen Elsa." Alex insists in a fit of bravery.

"I will talk to her as I damn well please, because she I my wife and I am her king." Hans's voice has taken on such an aggressive snarl that Alex's eyes well up and he soon breaks out in to stifled sobs.

Hans pays no mind to Alex or his tears; instead he grabs my elbow and stares at me with a familiar rage filled look. In this moment I know I can match his furry. He is threatening not only me, but the child in my arms. Alex is scared and I have to help him.

I back away from Hans all while giving him a look that dares him to advance upon me.

By now we have been noticed, Hans is far too showy to have gone without being so for long. As he realizes this I can see the change ripple across his face. One instance he is on the brink of a frenzy, and the next he is the picture of polite charm.

"Elsa, honey, I was wondering where you got off too." His voice is loud enough to carry; he needs everyone to hear him and his deceptive words.

I do not respond. Instead I take advantage of the quiet crowd around us and locate Alex's mother. She bursts from behind a line of people and stammers several apologies, all while taking the young boy from my arms and in to her own.

My chest feels exposed, as do my arms and my legs. Without an innocent life in my arms with which to defend myself I feel all too vulnerable under Hans's scrutiny. His eyes trail the contours of my body, and his hand comes up to rest on my shoulder. The weight of his hand is far to persistent, and far more than is strictly necessary.

I fight against my most primal urges of fight or flight, anything that does not involve me standing with Hans's arm around me, anything that leaves me never having to look at his spiteful, violating, eyes again.

He is speaking but I do not hear it.

He is walking with me, yet I do not notice it.

Everything that I am, every thought in my head, and every muscle in my body is focused on his arm and how I wish it were anywhere else but my shoulder. I need it to be somewhere else. My feet falter against what I assume must have been a loose flagstone, but I cannot be bothered to confirm my suspicions, I am all too focused on not throwing up. My stomach has decided that what little breakfast I could force down my throat really has no business being down there.

"I thought I told you that you don't get to leave the castle." Hans cranes his head toward mine and hisses in to my ear.

I say nothing.

"You will answer me." Hans threatens.

I say nothing.

Hans's arm becomes more and more prominent. Its weight overshadows everything else around me. When I gain the good sense to look up, I see that the castle walls stand around me. We are standing in a small and un-trafficked stretch of hallway.

"What," Hans demands his voice teetering on the edge of no return, a place I know all too well, "were you doing out there?" His final syllable is accentuated by a slap across my cheek.

It stings; of course is stings, but it stings for another person at another time. When my eyes refocus on the hallway, and the paintings hanging along them, I mumble my response. "Nothing."

That simple word of rebellion is met with a much sharper, faster, and harder fist to my face. My vision swims with tears and my cheek smarts. Hans looks afraid for just a moment, and then seethes at me. "Don't you are let anyone see the bruise." His arms come to my shoulders, gripping and twisting harder than I can bear.

"I won't."

"Good." With his words dancing in the air, taunting me, he shifts his grip from my shoulders to my waist. His body is close, pressing up against mine. "Remember," his voice sounds in to my ear, "you are mine, and there isn't a thing you can do about it." One of his hands leaves my waist and travels upwards to my breast.

I jerk away, desperate to have his hands from me. My waist I could tolerate for the shortest of moments, but it becomes too much and I pulled away being reminded of the night previous.

My actions leave my wrist twisted at an impossible angle and my upper arm in a grip so tight that I have no doubts about the bruising I will see tomorrow. "You have an insolent streak in you that I am simply going to have to beat out if you don't wisen up."

Our eyes meet and I remember them as I saw them last night, shadowed with fury.

I submit.

"I'm sorry, I should know better than to go places without your permission." My tongue betrays me and speaks as if possessed. Somewhere in the darkest parts of my mind, I realize that this is not a safe situation, not only for me, but Anna as well. Anna is liable to provoke Hans and despite our "agreement" I doubt he would spare her.

"You should have, and I am sure you will not leave the castle grounds at all, as I do not, and will not, ever give you permission to stray from my castle and the gardens surrounding it."

It should not startle me, the way he says "his" castle. I have, after all, given it, and all of Arendelle, to him when I said "I do". In a perfect world I would have courted, and eventually married, a nice young gentleman. We could pledge ourselves to each other and rule side by side, taking our kingdom in to a fruitful age of utter prosperity, but I had learned at far too young an age, that the world in not perfect, and never well be. I should simply take my lot in life and deal with it until I am too old to remember my plights.

"Yes." I utter, knowing the silence is not an acceptable answer.

He turns from me and stalks down the hall, not looking back. His steps are arrogant and filled with the assumption that even when he turns his back on me I will not harm him.

He is right.

Nothing he claims can be trusted, but I have no alternative. I have to keep him alive and happy.

Without giving my destination much thought I set off in the opposite direction. My feet work as separate entities from my head, taking me where I need to go as opposed to where I want to go.

I come to a stop in front of the library. I have not had all that much reason to stop by the library since my exile came to an end. It is, of course, a wonderful well of knowledge and all things I do not know, but I have had treaties to sign, and trade to organize.

The doors open with a stuck, unsealing sound. The air inside is stagnant and stale. I cough once and proceed further in. Books are piled high and shoved in every nook and cranny. Anna must have exploited the fantastical tales during her childhood as I was not around to assist in her adventures. The layers of dust suggest that is has been to long since Anna found solace in the leaves of a fairy-tale.

I make my way toward a stack by a window and pick up the top one. Wiping away the dust I reveal an embossed cover depicting a troll and a fairy. Despite myself I feel a small smile on my lips. This was Anna favorite book after the accident. She would sit outside of my room for hours going on and on about it. I never got told the tittle, she did not pay mind to such things. It was her way to pick up a book and dive in without a second thought. Anna had always claimed that the troll had kissed her in her sleep, and was the cause of her white streak.

The plot, which I had gleaned from the diligent recounting of it from a position securely behind my door, was centred on a little orphaned boy who was found by trolls and taken care of by them in the absence of his parents. He soon learned of the world and its ways. Deciding to stay firmly out of such ways he took to harvesting ice on account of its solitary nature.

The young man would go on to meet a princess who took to his bumbling nature. She would later agree to be his bride and they lived happily ever after, as most fairy-tale couples do.

I replace the book at the top of its teetering stack and make for the window. My fingers fumble with the latch as I am overcome with the need for fresh winter air to replace the old, still stuff I have been breathing. The latch pops free, but the window does not move. Pushing I feel it held firmly in place by a thick coat of mold and mildew. Rime is dancing across the glass pane now. I feel as stuck as the window. I feel as fragile as the window, as if I may shatter at the most inopportune moment.

Then, with a panicked jostle, the window pops from its bonds and swings outwards. The frigid air slams across my face and bathes my neck and shoulders in a calm sluggish cold.

My arms reach from the window to the teetering stack of books. I, once again, pick up the book with the embossed troll and the fairy. I know that fairy-tales are for those much younger than me, but I need the escape more desperately now than ever before.

* * *

**Did you see what I did with the troll thing? It was like Kristoff. I'll have an update up for you guys Wednesday. **

**Thanks you for reading. Drop a review please, it is always awesome to hear from my lovely readers. **

**-Whovian123**

**snowflake777: I can't really tell you how happy the ending may be, if happy at all. I guess you have to keep reading every week, oh well. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you so much. I am giving Elsa's state of mind so much effort, and it is awesome to know that it shows.**

**The Pianist's Touch: Thank you very much. Anna and Elsa's little spat is scheduled to reach its crescendo in several chapters. Where it goes from there I cannot divulge. **


	21. Chapter 21

**Hullo charming reader. Elsa's working herself in to a pickle isnt she. **

**I was looking through my outline and cam to the startling realization that I am at the very least halfway through this. It is ridiculous to think that I made it this far. Every review has helped, along with every favorite and follow. Thank you so much, now lets cut the sap and get on with the chapter. **

* * *

I struggle through the night, my body tossing and turning so frequently that all I hear is the rusting of sheets as a move. In the scarce moments of silence all I can feel is fear, my mind is empty and blank save for the streaks of panic that pulse through me. I do not manage to sleep.

Once the sun has replaced the moon and the chirping of birds becomes too apparent to ignore I pull myself from my pathetic attempt at sleep. My arms ache from Hans's grip and my cheek still stings with the echo of his hit. Bracing myself for the worst I check the damage in my mirror. I have a simple purple bruise under my cheekbone; it makes me look sunken and ill.

I know that no matter how much powder I pile on, it will still be all too obvious. With that knowledge I resolve to keep the left side of my face pointed away from everyone I am forced to meet with today.

Despite my better judgment I skip breakfast. I know skipping breakfast will not end with Hans in a particularly good mood, but that feels like a problem far too irrelevant for me right now. My feet take me back to the library and for a moment I consider going in, but it feels too normal. It feels so utterly normal and simple to spend my morning curled up with a good book that I cannot consider it for more than the briefest of seconds.

I let myself wander somewhere else.

Only when the snowflakes settle on to my eye lashes do I realize that I am outside. The winter air is a relief. I am far more at home without the stifling heat of the castle burning against my skin during all hours of the day.

In what could only be called a fit of joy I kick some fine white snow in to the air. It cascades back toward the ground. I throw my left arm in the air and release a curling and swirling stream of delicate snowflakes. They flitter to the ground bringing with them a sheen of something special that was not there before.

A smile pulls at my features, reminding me that I can in fact still feel joy. My palms come together and I rub them against one another, creating what would have been a warm pocket if it was not for the snow I am channeling. I open my hands and place them, palm up, in front of me. Leaning down I blow across them and send a wave of frozen water droplets in to the air. Each and every one gets caught in a slow fall, nearly suspended in the air around them, and catches the sun in such a way that they shine with the brilliance of a full rainbow.

I laugh.

My body is relaxed and my mind is calm. I cannot remember the last time I was not walking on eggshells around the castle. The last time I could manage to breathe without the pounding of Hans's threats ringing in my ears.

Frost swirls around me in an undeniably gleeful fashion. The pressure in my chest is lighter and lighter with each passing second. Snow is relaxing and exhilarating all at once. Rime dances across my arms and blooms in to the air, climbing across trees and latching on to flowers. Then I twirl.

I twirl about like a ridiculous child ignoring all the responsibilities of the world. So many people expect so much from me and I am determined to ignore it all in these fleeting seconds in which I can breathe without a weight upon my chest.

Of course, as all good things tend to do, my bliss comes to an untimely end once I register the chain of my mother's necklace rub against my neck. How can I have fun when she is stuck alone in the dark of a madman's boat? Suddenly I feel like a guilty child caught trying to sneak an extra cookie. I cannot be happy, not until I can free my mother and Anna from the terror I have unwittingly forced upon them.

The rime coated flowers die as my mood shifts. The petals shriveling as the ice around them constricts, freezing out every whisper of breath still fighting for life. My fingers have worked themselves in to tight fists.

This has been my entire life, happiness shamefully torn away by the duties I have to preform, or the powers I have to supress. Even now my life is a teetering mess of Hans, my mother, Anna, and an angry volatile set of powers.

Even if, through some impossible fluke, I make it out of the hell Hans has constructed for me what comes next? I will have to somehow explain to Anna that our father is dead not because of a stray wave, but because I could not keep him alive despite my best efforts. Our mother will have to stay in hiding as Hans rules and destroys Anendelle.

I push thoughts so morbid out of my mind, resolving to take things a day at a time, and my problems at present are as simple as a bruise on my cheek. A slight ache has developed in my jaw as the sun has pushed across the sky, I have no doubt I will be clutching it by the time I force myself to pretend to sleep tonight.

A quaking shiver not caused by the cold, courses from my neck and comes to rest at my toes. I am being watched, by who I am not sure, but I know that someone is. Looking behind me I come face to face with the Olafs. Kasper's dog and the living snowman Olaf are both looking up at me.

"I found a new friend!" Snowman Olaf declares rather excitedly.

"Did you?" I ask, feeding in to his enthusiasm and praying that the gentle angle of my head is enough to hide my bruise.

"Yeah, He likes warm hugs too." Snow Olaf exclaims while throwing his twiggy arms around dog Olaf.

"Does he?" I play in to the part I am required to play for Olaf, my Olaf.

"Yup."

I am about to respond when I hear frantic calling of Olaf's name.

"Olaf, did you check to make sure Kasper knew you were going to play with Olaf?"

"No."

I sigh wishing secretly that Olaf was slightly more worldly and self-aware, but knowing deep down that I would not have him any other way. As the breath whistles past my lips Kasper sprints in to view his face coated in concern. Before he gets a chance to ask me if I have seen his dog he spots him.

"Olaf, thank god. I was worried. We aren't home, you can't go wandering off you might get lost." Kasper coos while ruffling dog Olaf's fur.

Snow Olaf looks befuddled at his name being used not in reference to him. I will have to explain this to him, but am too preoccupied with getting away from Kasper before he can notice my bruise.

I start to back away from the dog and man reunion when Kasper stands up to address me. "I couldn't find him. He doesn't know his way around here-." Kasper explains, then his face shifts in an instant and I know he has picked up on my all too apparent bruise. "What happened?" He seems to forget himself for a moment. His shoulders drop and his prince like grace falls from his movements. With a great lumbering hand he reaches to make face in an effort to examine my unfortunate blemish. All I manage to register in the hand approaching my face and in spite of myself I flinch.

Kasper's face is a patchwork of emotions which flicker in and out of his features faster than I can give them names. He pulls his hands from the air between us and returns them to his side. "Who did that?" His voice is concern mixed with just the slightest undertone of threat, which I hope I am imagining.

"Who did what?" I ask while trying to turn my face to such an angle that Kasper thinks his eyes were playing tricks on him.

"Don't play dumb, I saw that bruise." He insists, his hands twitching as he fights the urge to point at it, or examine it. Only now do I realize that both Olaf's have gone off somewhere else to play and have, thankfully, missed Kasper pointing out my bruise.

"I fell."

"No you didn't, you don't get a bruise like that from falling." Kasper retorts.

"Nothing happened, just leave it alone." My final words are much closer to shouting that I intended. I cannot tell him anything, he cannot know. What would he do it he found out about Hans, my mother, or my father?

His face softens. "Sorry." His voice is far from the angry demand of before. "You fell. It's fine."

I nod softly, thankful that despite the fact that we both know I did not fall Kasper relents. His eyes turn to face the ground and I can tell he has a thousand questions, none of which I intend to answer. He opens his mouth several times before he decides which words to force out. "Did you sleep well?"

I lie. "Yes quite well."

Kasper nods, and shuffles his feet around in the gravel walkway. "Would you care to accompany me to lunch?" He asks.

I panic, lunch with people watching me, noticing my bruise, Hans sitting next to me as an immense figure of pain and tragedy in my life. No. I cannot go to lunch. Not with Kasper, not with anyone. Maybe I can steal an apple from the kitchens instead?

"No, I have documents to sign and treaties to look over." I try to explain my feeble lie.

"They can wait." Kasper offers his arm to me, which I wish I could take. He shows no signs of ill intent but I cannot bring myself to trust him entirely.

My stomach chooses this rather opportune moment to let out a gurgling growl declaring that I am indeed hungry. Kasper smiles affectionately and I find myself nodding. I can perhaps stand a single meal, but I will not take the arm Kasper is still holding out for me.

We walk side by side, our arms resting by our sides and our steps syncing. Step, step, step. Soon the gravel beneath my feet turns to delicately cared for wooden planks. The midday light streams in from the windows all along the hallways, its brilliance amplified by the snow and ice winter brings.

The dining hall is packed, but less so that it has been in the last few days. The guests that were able to leave have done so, and those who remain will likely have to wait out the winter as travel conditions are on the decline. Hans will play host, he will enjoy it, and it will be an excellent chance for him to seduce dignitaries with pretty treaties and poorly thought out trade agreements. I can only hope Hans destroys my country quietly, I do not wish for knowledge regarding its downfall.

I fall in to my seat beside Hans. I angle myself as far from him as I can and keep my head down. If no one talks to me then I stand a vague chance of my bruise going unnoticed. Hans ignores me and continues chatting with a prince from the east. My sweaty fingers wrap around my fork and I stare at my meal, though I suddenly feel unable to eat.

"Sweetie, if I were you I wouldn't be eating, it really isn't doing you any good." Hans is leaning toward me, his mouth at my ear whispering the command so that no ones can hear anything other than perfectly formulated small chat. I let go of my fork as with as much demeanour as I can manage, the urge to run is overwhelming, though I do not act upon it.

I stay firmly upon my chair, fighting the urge to be anywhere else but here. Forcing myself to look around and take in the guests. I realize that both Anna and Kristoff are absent from lunch. If there was something I could say to Anna that would make her forgive me I would say it. I would say it without a moment of thought or hesitation. I have never wished more strongly for the strength to say words.

After a half hour of ignoring my guests and looking in to my plate everyone has left, everyone except Hans. I ignore him for as long as I can, but with time his voice breaks the icy silence of the room. "Are you mad at me? Because I feel like you're mad at me." Hans explains. "And Elsa, you must know, a husband should not feel this way so soon after his wedding. Our marriage is lacking in some respects, don't you think? Take, for example, the fact that I was lying in a cold empty bed last night, with no one to hold, no one to love." His last word delivers the greatest sting, as if what Hans did to me could ever be called love.

"And Elsa, pray tell, how is a king to ensure his heir if his wife never comes to bed with him?" Hans asks in a voice all too innocent and careless for the things he has done, for the things he has taken.

I do nothing but continue the examination of my plate.

"Elsa." Hans's tone is warning now. "You owe me one more thing before you have exhausted your use, you have one final thing which I need you for, and that is a child. I need you to bear me a son so that he can rule Arendelle after my death, and you will give me one."

If I could feel cold I am sure I would. My shoulders ache and my cheek burns at the memory of its abuse. The things that Hans asks are things I cannot give him. I cannot take him to bed; he has had his way once surly I will not have to endure such a night again.

Without warning he reaches for my, tugging at my dress, slipping the sleeves off. "No, no, no, please no." I feel the words fly out of my mouth as my panic mounts. I need to get away; I need him to be away from me.

"Elsa, if you will not take me to bed, then I will be forced to take you here. This is your fault, it could have been better, it could have hurt less." Hans's hand is on my thigh getting all too close to places it should ever be. I jerk away.

Standing up in a lurching stumble I shout. "No."

Hans chuckles.

"No is not an option sweetie." He explains.

As he steadily advances on me I try to keep a distance between us by backing up in time to his steps. The room is quiet and Hans's face tells me that he is absolutely serious. Panic, in this moment I am not much more than panic shoved in to a roughly human form.

Hans reaches out for my throat as I corner myself. Then in a moment of blissful coincidence Anna walks through the door. She says nothing, but lets out a horrified gasp. Hans leaps back from me and exits with a warning glare directed so only I can see it.

Having just gone from Hans's hand inches from my throat to Anna questioning gaze I take a moment to fall to the floor. "I have something I need to tell you." I force the words out looking up at the confused Anna.

Her face shifts, and she walks over to me, her steps aggressive and demanding. "Did he give you that bruise?" She asks pointing at my cheek.

"No." I insist, trying to calm down the fury I can see behind her eyes.

"He did, didn't he?"

"No."

"Stop lying to me." Anna shouts, her eyes electric, desperate for an answer that makes any kind of sense.

"Yes." The truth springs from my lips, throwing a carefully constructed web of deceit in to the frosty winter wind.

She does not say anything. Tension fuses to the air around us, catalyzed by my admission. She will want to know everything, I cannot tell her everything. If she were to learn about our mother's situation or our father's death she would lose control. Anna has always been privy to the desires of her heart and her rather compulsive behaviour. I want to back track, I want to take back my words. I cannot tell her anything.

To say I expected fury would be an understatement. I do not know entirely why I expected it, but I did. When Anna speaks in a broken voice is am baffled. "Why, why did you let him?"

She is not just asking about the bruise, she is addressing the last few months. She gains urgency as she speaks, but it is not a powerful urgency, it is empty and tinged with tears. "You don't deserve this. Elsa, no one could ever deserve him." I know somewhere so far inside of my head that I can no longer view it with reason that she is right. No one should fear sharing a bed with their husband.

"I-." My voice shivers and quakes with the terror and tears building in my chest. "I have to."

"Why?" Anna begs. "Please tell me."

"I can't, you have to know that I would if I could, but I can't" I decide in that moment that I will not cry, the wails and sobs may knock at my lips but I will keep them all sealed within me, if Anna were to see me cry she would demand more than she is now. I cannot afford to tell her the whole truth, but I cannot pass on her lack of shouting right now. She is being far too reasonable for me to hide everything.

"Anna, you don't understand, you don't understand the things I would do to protect you, the things I have done." I need her to understand with nothing more than that. I cannot give her more than that, though I wish I could.

"Elsa." Anna says my name sort and simply. There is a weight to it, as if the syllables hold a hidden power. She falls in to place next to me, staring forward without words. She starts a few sentences; they all trail off in to silence. I feel her fingers wrap around mine and she pulls my hand tight to her chest. I feel her heart beating with wild abandon and hear her uneven breath; she does not know how to feel or how to react.

I cannot help her.

I am not even sure I can help myself anymore.

* * *

**Next chapter will be up Tuesday. Please review, it is awesome to know what you think.**

**LilyGHall: All in good time. Hans may be turned to ice yet. **

**The Pianist's Touch: Evidently the bruises were indeed noticed by Kasper and Anna. Also this chapter conveniently explained why Hans is keeping her around. **

**Lordhhp: Thank you, I cant wait to upload more. **

**Theminergirlcraft: First off, thank you, secondly, never apologize for your pen name, trust me when I say an author is far more interested in the review and the fact that someone actually bothered reviewing. **


	22. Chapter 22

**Hullo. I'm giving you this a little early. I had a loose plan for this, but I found that the characters got away from me, especially Kasper. **

**Please let me know what you think. Also, you can market my story however you like as long as you do not take credit for the writing. Feel free to post on tumblr (other social media sites are available) or to just nag your friends until they read this (and review). **

**-Whovian123**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN FROZEN!**

* * *

"Elsa." Hans's voice echoes around the castle, he is looking for me and I am doing my up most to not be found. I have slunk around the castle, avoiding Hans at all cost, for the last nine days and I do not intend to be caught now. I have decided that I would rather face his fury in one outburst rather than in many small bouts of bruising.

I duck around a corner and fly through a door in a bid to leave Hans behind. The smell of musk meets my nose and a stagnant air hits my face; I have found myself once again in the library.

"Elsa?" Another voice says my name, though this time it is much calmer and far less threatening.

Turing around with a flourishing spin I see Kasper sitting in a large chair by the window with a book in hand. He is fiddling with reading glasses. "Kasper." I answer his question of my name with his own. He says nothing and continues to fiddle with his glasses, trying to tuck them in to a pocket before I can notice them. "Don't."

I should not have said anything, it is a breach of social construct to mention something someone is clearly trying to hide, but I cannot stand the ashamed fiddling of his fingers. "Stop what?" Kasper looks up with a poorly put together innocent expression.

"Glasses don't take away from a person." I explain.

"Tell my older brother that." Kasper retorts.

"Put them on." I instruct.

He does.

The fragile wire frames look strange on his strong face, but not out of place. They bring a balance to him, a sense of humanity and fallibility. Sitting in such an ornate chair by the window, book in hand, it seems as if he could be a scholar.

I do not say anything. We both spend some time studying each other, as if looking in to the others eyes long enough will tell us what we need to know. What do I need to know?

"Elsa!" Hans's voice echoes thought the castle once more. It is closer this time, frightfully close. Kasper's eyes take on an angry gleam and he swears. He is not happy about Hans; I doubt he believed my story about falling and getting my bruise.

The door to the library springs from its shut position and rockets toward to wall pushing me tight to the stone bricks. "Elsa." Hans's voice is inches from my face. We are separated only by the thinnest sheet of wood, one flimsy inconsequential door.

"She's not here." Kasper's voice breaks Hans's calls. There is silence in the library, a cold halting silence.

"If she were," Hans begins, his voice becoming low and full of threat, "I would have to take drastic measures. As my wife she is not permitted to be alone with unmarried men, so for your sake and hers I advise you to keep your distance."

The door pulls away from my face as Hans's leaves, his threat still hanging in the air. We stare at each other for several minutes, allowing the silence to grow and root itself in our minds and in our fears.

"Does he hit you?" Kasper has the courage to break the silence with a question so direct I stagger.

"Yes." There is no longer a point in denying the fact when Hans is parading around and saying such things. My truth taunts me; Anna and Kasper now know things I wish had remained secret. How can I do this? How can I manage on when I can see my world shattering around me.

Kasper jumps from his chair, nearly knocking it over in the process. "How, Why? I'm going to…" His fury lasts for only a moment before he stops his rant in front of me. His glasses cling to the tip of his nose, ready to slide off of his face and shatter against the ground.

I want to give him an explanation; I have nothing worth saying though. What could I possibly say to Kasper or Anna that would make what I have done ok? What could negate giving Arendelle to Hans?

Kasper reaches his hand out toward me. It is an innocent gesture, one that does not seem to hold a goal. I flinch. Kasper does not say anything as he withdraws his hand.

My chest constricts and a feel as if I am going to be sick. I want to tell Kasper why, but that means tell the world that it happened. When the words leave my mouth it will be real and I will have to stop hiding it in the shadowed cobweb ridden corners of my mind. I know I will never be able to come to terms with it, I will never tell anyone. I can dream and I can wish, but I am not strong enough to beat this. Not with all the power of ice and snow could I beat Hans, he is far stronger than I could ever hope to be.

We stand at a stale mate, me not willing to speak, and Kasper not willing to push me. I can hear his breathing; it is rapid, but also rapidly steadying. I strain my ears and imagine that I can hear the pulsing of his heart, strong and constant, like the beat of a clock. The muscles in my hand twitch, caught for the briefest of seconds in the desire to feel it, to feel his heart hammering away under his chest, to know that it is there.

I feel my powers surge, the room well be getting colder and before long thin fragile snowflakes will settle on the stacks of books. My fingers tingle with the need for release, the need to turn this hot sweaty world in to something calm and cold, in to something that I understand.

"I have to go." I blurt out as the first flakes flutter in to Kasper's hair, though I make no move to do so.

"Please," Kasper says, his hair rapidly collecting snow, "don't." I know I have too, I need to leave before someone gets hurt, or before the library fills with snow and ice, but I'll be dammed if I can find the strength to move my feet.

"You'll get cold." I offer trying to remind myself that I cannot be here.

"I've told you before; I live too far north for that to be a problem." Kasper explains.

"If something happened I could freeze your heart." I confess, a hit of a sob tinting my voice for reasons I do not understand.

"You are doing entirely different things to my heart." Kasper whispers.

I say nothing. My wedding band burns on my left hand ring finger. The world around me goes blurry and my thoughts grind to a halt. Snow is falling fast around me now. It stings with its familiar cold against my bare forearms and face. The few breaths I can find the strength to take are shaky and scared. I am married to Hans; I will never have a life outside of Hans. My purpose in life has been reduced to keeping my mother and Anna alive and giving Hans a son. I have no time for my heart to play games.

"I suggest you stop." My voice echoes around the room cold and detached, just like the person I feel I am to become. "My future is in bricks which have already been laid, there is no time left to alter the path."

Kasper blinks twice and then his face changes. His feet falter and he takes several stumbling steps backwards. With a curt nod he takes his glasses from his nose, polishes them on his simple loose shirt, and tucks them neatly in to a hidden pocket.

He leaves the room without a word.

I wait for several minutes, my entire self focused on my breathing and keeping my powers at bay just long enough to get somewhere where I won't damage priceless books. The tension in my chest threatens to spill in to the world, but with my fingers scratching at my chest and finally wrapping around my mother's necklace I keep my powers from overtaking me and leaving me even more empty than I am now.

Several hours after the sun sets I decide I should retire to my bed room. I know I will not do much sleeping, but at least I can pretend for appearances sake, and I am secure in the knowledge that Hans is likely to have retired to his own room by now.

After checking for guards I make my way out of the library and toward my room. The hallways are void of guests and staff alike with only my echoing steps to fill the silence. I make it to my room without incident.

The door swings open easily and I step through. A fire is roaring in my typically unused and dusty fireplace. I chalk it up to a handmaiden who has forgot about my penchant for a chilly room. The orange flames cast distracting shadows across the walls and on the ceiling which I dutifully ignore. I will not start assuming every shadow hides Hans; I am not going to let him have that victory.

"Where were you today?" Hans's voice comes from the shadowed corner of my room like a specter or the night. "Actually where have you been for the last week?"

I freeze, unable to think or move. I watch through someone else's eyes as Hans pulls himself out from the shadows and in to the dancing light. His eyes zero in on me with a focus and a hate that prompt me from my stock still state and sends me a step backward.

"That's what I thought." Hans monologues while taking his velvety white gloves off in the most delicate manner. "What more do I have to do? What will finally put you in your place? Hitting is getting us nowhere, maybe something _more_." He places his gloves on my desk and strolls over to the fire. His frame is silhouetted by orange, the flames flick and lick at his outline. "I had this idea last night while I was sitting in bed _alone_ thanks to you. You see, I have always been a man with a penchant for irony, and I thought _fire and ice_ how cute. It goes like this, you sit there and I brand you."

He is crazy, absolutely crazy if he thinks he can get me to stand still while he tries to brand me.

"And don't think about running away or trying to fight back, because by now fifteen of my men are waiting outside of your door ready to catch you if you try to run, or too kill you if you kill me."

Hans smiles.

I feel like dying. If I die now I can take Hans with me. I can kill him with an icicle to the heart and let his men take my life, but that would leave my mother and Anna dead too. After everything I will not be able to give up so easily.

Hans has the poker from the fire in hand now, the tip blazes white-hot. This will hurt, this will hurt nearly as much as everything before, but I still refuse with my innate stubbornness to let him see a single tear.

"Lie down." Hans barks his order and with the power of flaming metal behind his words. I comply. I may feel a fool most days, but I know that this can go south easily and if I provoke Hans in the slightest he could kill me or cripple me. I have enough self-preservation left to leave me venerable on my bed. Still for all the sense it makes not to struggle I cannot help but plead.

"No, please no. I'm sorry; I won't stay away any more."

"It's a bit late for promises Elsa." Hans takes hold of my dress and yanks it down, exposing a large portion on skin on my chest. His hand is quick and I do not have time to brace myself before the poker comes to lay across my chest under my collar bone. The pain is far too much to processes. It is blinding and eye-opening all at the same time, as if it hurts so much that is no longer does. In a line across my chest, immediately above my breast, my skin sizzles and pops melting from my body and burning in to nothingness. I tug away from his grasp, desperate to feel anything but the poker on my flesh.

Ice, I need ice. I try to grab on to it. My powers are there, I can feel them, they are slippery and impossible to grasp, but they are there.

I clench my fits and clamp my mouth shut. There is a scream building in my chest, a scream which I will not let out. Hans coos. "It's ok sweetie. I just need you to remember that you are mine, I think you might be forgetting that a little bit."

The popping and sizzling continue as I make a final grasp at my powers. Blessedly I feel the winter take hold and I see Hans's breaths fog in the chilly air. His eyes change and his stance shifts. The blistering rod is stronger against my skin. Rime spreads over the handle of the poker and tries desperately to crawl over the heat at the opposite end. The arms of frost and biting cold falter as they touch the glowing steel, I am not strong enough.

Hans withdraws the poker. "Do we need to have another go or have you learned your lesson?" He is mocking me now. He was worried before when it looked as if I might win, but now with blisters blossoming across my chest and the golden flames backing him up he feels strong and arrogant.

I cannot answer, if I open my mouth the screams will tumble out and Hans will do it again. If I say nothing Hans will do it again.

I shake my head and regret it as the skin across my neck stretches and pulls at the blisters on my chest. Hans sees my not so subtle wince and lets out a chuckle. "I see you have had enough, and you're far to disgusting to do anything with right now. Try to clean up for later this week, I have plans for you." With his taunting still ringing in my ears he walks through the door and leaves me alone with only the pulsing of the flames for company.

With my vision blotting out and the pain overtaking my body I do one final thing before losing myself, I flick my wrist and send a pile of snow toward the fire-place. Then my world and my room are plunged in to the darkness of night.

* * *

**Thank you for reading, please let me know what you thought. Also, I was wondering, how old do I sound, 11? 45? After reading what I write what impression do you have regarding my age. Let me know with a review.**

**Next chapter will but up on Friday or Saturday, depending on how bored I get during the week.  
**

**-Whovian123**

**Also, thank you to those who, followed, f****avorited, and reviewed last chapter. **

**magiclover13: I had been waiting to write it forever, so don't fee bad. **

**Loridhhp: Oh my god, I am so sorry. I never meant to trigger anything and should have put a warning or something. I commend you for your strength. **

**Guest: AHHHHHHHHHHHHH?**

**imea619: Thank you very much, I hope to have you smiling and gasping many more times before this story is over. **

**The Pianist's Touch: Thank you, I am trying my best not to romanticize or gloss over any of the uglier aspects of Elsa's situation. **


	23. Chapter 23

**Hi guys, How are you all doing, hopefully better than Elsa. Shes not doing so great, lucky for her that this chapter is pretty tame in the way of torture inflicted by Hans. This is just another chance for Elsa to work though her thoughts and to try and come to terms with it all. **

**-Whovian134**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

When I come to it is only to the sensation of pain, an unadulterated and undiluted pain searing across my chest. My fingers twitch and my hand flies up to touch it, to try to sooth it. As they make contact with the raw and cook flesh my body rejects all feeling. I feel the pain on the principal that I know should, but nothing comes through. My chest is a void, a void completely free of feeling, pain or otherwise.

I force myself to sit up, ignoring the awful brittle feeling of my bones. With my feet resting against the ground I face my mirror. The damage is difficult to look at, not for reasons founded in vanity; I have never paid much mind to the state of my body and the clarity of my skin, but for the awful blisters and yellowing crusts.

Dark spots dapple my vision as I stand, I am weak from hunger and weak from the energy required to blot out the pain. For all the burning and scorching that should be coming from my neck, and assaulting the rest of my body in waves, I am left with only a slight heat which radiates across my jaw and down along my breast.

With a fit of strength I stand up. I come to regret it moments later as my feet fall out from under me and I meet the ground in an awkward fashion. The pain flares in my chest and I gasp.

I try to ignore it. I try to push back the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. Try as I might with Hans gone and an empty room mocking me the tears finally begin to fall. They sting, as if I have held them if for so long that I no longer know how to properly cry.

At first there are few, they trace the contours of my face giving me none of the relief they promised. Then there are more; many more, slick salty and coating everything they come in contract with.

My heart aches with each struggling and stalling beat. The heat in my chest does not lessen as the salt splashes against it. My sorrow only serves to pull the pain back in to the forefront of my mind with an arsenal of new ways to burn.

Standing up I move as if in a trance. First my feet remember how to walk and then my arms and fingers remember how to open doors. Next comes my eyes, they recall the necessary techniques required for the scouting of guards. I feel as if something is missing, as if something has yet to remember how to move, how to feel.

I waste no time bothering with it.

My daze has led me to the gardens, a place I find myself running to more and more. Impressive pines frame the sunrise. The sea of colors is broken by clouds which hang heavy in the sky and speak of heavy snow. It feels like a storm. The world is getting ready for something, something that is coming faster than anyone knows.

The snow under my bare feet is stale and sharp. My toes should be cold. Somewhere in the back of my head I laugh at my ability to forget a jacket and shoes but still be fine out in the snow. I have often been told that every cloud has a silver lining.

As they often do now days my eyes turn toward the mountains. Far beyond where I can see, tucked away behind an impossible peak, is my ice fortress. It was safe and it was pure during the time I called it home, but now I fear returning to it would show only the damage Han caused while capturing me many months ago.

So very many months ago it now seems. I thought I was free when I shipped him off to the Southern Isles and found solace in a country that reveled in my powers. Now I am reduced to a quivering mass of fear and pain. If this is freedom I want no part in it. I would rather bide my time in my room, hiding from everyone and everything, as I had done the thirteen years previous of my coronation.

I ignore the whipping of the wind, and the crashing of the ocean. My mind cancels the world out, stubborn and determined to stay comatose until I can work out what to do next. What can I do next? How does my life move past this, I cannot cover up a wound so great as the one pulsing away on my chest? If through an impossible fluke I can steal enough wrapping from somewhere I cannot conceal it all with a dress. No matter what I try it will be blinding and obvious to everyone near me that I am failing to cover something vitally important.

Fishing boats leave the harbour; I have a rather opportune view of them. Scores of them set out to start a day of fishing, thousands of men working hard aboard to provide for their families. Such normalcy is strange to me now. If only I could work a simple job to keep Anna and my mother alive, I would take fifteen hour workdays aboard a fishing boat as opposed to my current situation. Though dreams as such are a waste of time, as women are nether encouraged in to the work of men, nor would a queen be accepted in to such a lowly profession.

I continue to ignore my burn, though I know it needs attention rather soon, and stroll around with a false dignity about me. If I pretend to be strong maybe I will be, though I feel if I am ever to truly be strong it will be entirely by accident.

Many of the flowers diligently planted around the gardens have died in wake of the first frost of winter, and are now nothing more than brittle husks. Some are still struggling, and some have even found a way to thrive, such as the snowdrop, but most are dead. I finger a brown soggy petal which may have once been a vibrant blue or red.

With time, though not enough of it, I make it around the castle and find myself at the entrance which was, not four hours ago, my exit. Of course I will have to go back in. I have already missed breakfast and will have to miss lunch if I intend to do anything about the searing pain, which is getting steadily worse in my chest.

The entrance hall is crawling with guards, all of whom watch me as I make my way through the halls. If I can find Kai or Gerda they will be able to help me get bandages, and they won't question it, they will wonder and be confused, but they will not voice their confusion. They have served me well throughout my many troubles and have waited silently through many a bout of snow and ice. I owe them far more that I care to admit.

As if tuned to my silent plea for help I find Gerda shuffling about the hallways with a set of books in hand. Steeling myself with several deep breaths, that do not feel as if they make it anywhere near my chest, I call out her name.

Her head whips around and she smiles for the slightest of seconds, then her face takes on what I would call an inappropriately extreme look of horror. Naturally her eyes are instantly drawn to the inflamed wound on my chest. She says nothing, which I am grateful for, and hurries down the hall, casting frequent and worried looks over her shoulder to ensure I am still following as she knows it is far too risky to lead me by the hand.

I come to a room, which I assume is Gerda's, the bed is immaculate and the sparse belongings are all perfectly aligned with the walls. I feel ever so slightly guilty for not having ever paid much mind to Gerda's life outside her role of maintaining order in the castle.

Gerda prompts me in to sitting on the corner of her bed, and then throws her books at a small and diligently polished wooden desk. She tears at a cupboard and delves in only to re-emerge with several rolls of cotton bandage in hand. Her fingers spark slight pricks of pain as she applies the bandage, but I hold my tongue and do not complain. I am secure in the knowledge that she is doing her best and I am asking quite a lot about her.

"I know you don't want me to ask." Gerda breaks the silence of the room once she has finished applying the cloth. "But I must, How did it happen?"

I duck my head and pray that Gerda does not push me for an explanation, because I have none. I have no reason that will make the slightest bit of sense to her. Hans has ensured that I cannot tell my story without coming across as crazy. How would I explain to Gerda that he has my mother? Who in their right mind would consider for more than a moment that their King might be keeping the rightful queen prisoner in the wake of killing her husband?

"I do not know much," Gerda starts, "but I know that that burn was not accident. And I know even less about queens than I do about burns, but I know a queen should meet questions with respectful eye contact, even if I am only a lowly servant."

Her words are soft; she has a maternal side that I clung to during the three years I thought my mother to be decaying at the bottom of the ocean. I feel I owe her so much, I know I owe her so much, but I will not be able to give her an explanation.

"I." My sentence ends a quickly as it began. I try again, hoping that something flows out of my mouth, something that can be recognized as an explanation in the right light. "I was trying to put out the fireplace, the one in my room, someone had left a fire going and it gets too warm for me. I tripped and the poker was hot."

Gerda is not stupid. Of course she does not believe me, no one would. She simply has the grace to accept a false story, such as this, as a plea not to discuss it further. A strange flutter happens, it is so far in my chest that I can hardly feel it through the layers of pain and the crushing secrets, but I know it is there. It is the sudden wish to tell the truth, the desire to incriminate Hans and blame him.

It is wrong though. Hans was right, I have stayed away, I was with Kasper in the library and I should not have been. I deserve the dull throbbing of the burn to remind me that I should stay in line and wait my turn, and during my turn act like the happy wife I have to be. I do not have the chance to be anything else.

Gerda moves slowly, as if not to startle the wild animal I have become, and comes to sit beside me. She does not make the mistake of trying to touch me; she has tried to comfort me with too many hugs gone wrong. Thinking back on it I am startles that she has not left.

I would ask her why she is still here, but if I make her think about it she many realize that she should leave because it would be infinitely safer. Instead I sit next to her, my eyes refusing to meet hers and the silence impregnating the air around us. I thank her, my voice not quite able to express how thankful I am for everything she has done for me over the years, everything she has done for me when my common sense decides to take vacations.

"You're welcome, now you best be on your way your majesty. Dinner is near and you're going to need to get dressed." Gerda explains with a somber undertone. Nodding I step out of the small, clean room, and out in to the hallway.

It feels as though I had frozen the world around me, not in the traditional sense. It seems as if while I was in that small, neat room tucked away from the rest of the word that the rest of the world stopped happening. As if every problem and every nightmare took a twenty minute break and for those brief minutes the sun came out and the winter was alight with all manner of colors. It does not feel this way as I drag my feet along the hall.

My door approaches, and instead of pushing through straight away I press my ear to the wood and listen for the distinctive crackling of fire, or the rustling of a man. I hear neither, and, with a tight knot of apprehension sitting in my chest, I throw the door open.

There is light pouring in through the windows and a rather cold and unused fireplace nestled in to the wall. I stay close to the brickwork as I check the darker corners of the room for intruders. Only once I have completed a sweep of the space do I let out the breath I was unaware I had held.

I dig through my wardrobe and struggle for a while to find a suitable dress for dinner, a dress which will allow for my bandages to be sufficiently disguised. With a few frantic seconds of pushing fabric and looking behind dresses in search of something suitably conservative I find an old dress with a perfect neckline for hiding a bulky mass.

Struggling for only several moments I manage my way in to the old and stiff fabric. Once I am securely inside, and have had a chance to try to smooth out any creases, do I dare the shortest of glances at my mirror. I look strange, and I carry my body in an obviously odd fashion as not to aggravate the open sores, but it can pass for one simple dinner.

It has to pass; the consequences for my family are far too severe for me to fail now. Hans has proved his willingness to follow through with threats time and time again. All I have to do is sit quietly and stare at the food I am sure I will not be able to stomach. Anna will watch me with her sad stare which, wrenches my heart in a thousand directions, and makes me wish I could tell her about our parents.

I cannot though, I have to stay quiet and hope that what little I told Anna is enough to keep her quiet and sedated. Maybe in many years once Hans is content in his standing as king I will be permitted to tell Anna of our mothers continued existence. We might even be permitted visits, if I can keep both of them alive.

* * *

**What did you think? Let me know. Also most of you were pretty much right. I'm in the 16-18 age range. I'll keep the actual number to myself just so their is still a little mystery in our relationship. Next chapter will be up Thursday. **

**Thank you to everyone that favorited, followed, and reviewed.**

**ElsaAnnaSnowQueen: Pretty much yeah.  
**

**Guest: Why thank you, also you are a little high, but not bad. **

**The Pianist's Touch: Pretty spot on. **

**Rani1597: I've clarified that passage and I am sorry I left it so vague.  
**

**imea619: You were a bit high, but I am flattered nevertheless. Also thank you very much, I've always wanted to move someone to... screaming? **

**bexmad: How about I promise that Elsa will get a hug next chapter? **

**Loridhhp: I'm so sorry, You are strong, and you are in control of your life. I hope if you have healing left to do that it is fast and easy, although life rarely is so simple. **


	24. Chapter 24

**Hey guys, I hope you are all well. I promised you a hug for Elsa in this chapter, so read to find out how reliable I am. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer. I do not own Frozen.**

* * *

Dinner was manageable, my heart sat firmly in my throat the whole time, but I pulled through. The evening that followed was almost impossible, until it became apparent that Hans had drank too much of his favorite red wine, then promptly passed out and the rest of my night was much more livable. The week that followed was simple, in that all I had to do was avoid Hans when he was angry, and keep quiet and hidden after dinner.

It's been five weeks of dodging and hiding, over a month without yelling or hitting. Despite myself I feel hopeful. I can do this, life may not be easy but I can manage it. I can continue forward, I have done it my entire life.

I have a full afternoon ahead of me, and have discovered that Hans does not like the library. He did venture in once, and only once, but he has not gone near it since and I have exploited the freedom. With days to waste I sorted and re-shelved every book, returning every teetering stack to where it belongs.

The windows posed a slight challenge as some were truly stuck, but with several days' worth of shimmying the years of mildew released and the musk was aired out of the large room with haste. I took care of all the dust and straightened every picture. Cleaning everything and making the room presentable stopped it from hurting. The brief moments in which I am doing something with visible progress brings a silent smile to my face.

Sun is pooling on to the floor and the occasional fluffy snowflake is being pushed through the open windows by the causal and lazy wind. I have run out of things to clean and things to sort. So I have begun from the beginning or the selves and started reading the very first book. It is a fictitious story about a bard and his raven. It does not resonate with me, but with cleaning done I need something else to occupy my thoughts as I avoid Hans.

There is a knocking on the door. I freeze, though with several deep breaths I managed to approach the door and force my hand to the knob. If the knock is indeed that of Hans he will not be happy if I keep him waiting. An apology springs from my lips before I register that it is Anna, and not Hans, who stands outside of the door.

She does not say anything, not at first. Her feet echo against the ground and I close the door behind her. She continues on in to the room and picks up the book I had been reading. Leafing through the pages she makes an offhand remark about the raven's perceptiveness and I mutter with agreement.

"Elsa." She says my name and I know we will be skipping worthless pleasantries and getting straight to the matter at hand, whatever that matter may be. "Hans is looking for you."

"I know."

"This time he's angry. He has been shouting at Kai. He parades about like he owns the place, and the worst part is that he does. I cannot speak out against him when he yells at children in the village, i cannot do a thing against any injustice he commits because it would be treason. Elsa, I know you won't tell me why you married him, and I am forced to respect that, but something will have to change or we may have a revolt, if Arendelle can manage even that. Trade has crumbled in Hans's hands." Anna puts the book down and stares ruefully out the window. "He is ruining everything we worked so hard for."

"I cannot do anything, please believe me when I say my hands are tied." I beg, desperate for a chance to heal our country and restore its now fading glory, but all to aware none will come.

"By what?" Anna demands.

"You know I cannot tell you. I can't tell anyone. You have to trust that I am doing all I can." My hands are trembling. I hate this; I hate the discontent between us. Anna blinks slow and hard, pressing her eyes shut and closing the world out for a moment. It is a situation I often find myself in, needing the few seconds that a slow blink allows.

Anna moves from the window and throws her arms around me. It is unexpected and nearly flares my powers in to existence, but I contain them. I have never been fond of warmth, and even less so of heat, but the curious warmth of companionship and love I feel in my chest keeps me sane. Anna is not magic, not in the sense that I am, but she contains a small sparks of something special, something the average person does not have, the faintest of glimmers that pulls me through the darker moments of my life.

"I believe you."

Her fingers are against my back, soft and sincere against me. The thought ignites in the back of my head, the realization that this is the first time I have managed proper human contact since what Hans did to me a month ago. I regret the realization as thinking about it brings forth memories I have been doing my best to forget, yet despite my best efforts still continue to haunt the darker hours of my nightmares.

I feel a slight panic rise in me at the thought of what he did, but Anna's breath in my ear pulls me from my panic and gives me something fairly rhythmic to hold on to. I feel selfish as she pulls away, I feel selfish because I did not want her too. I want to stay where I am forever and let my problems drift away, as if down a river. Why should I not get happiness that lasts for more than a second? This is why I put off reading the books I am surrounded by, they all have happy endings. I have had nothing of the sort. From the moment I could read, or listen to, a story I was promised a conclusion that left everyone healthy and happy; so far I am neither.

Though I can survive, is that not better than an ending, the ability to endure? An ending is so boring, so final. Without a closing page the events of my life I can just drift forward. I know I have to die, we all do, and I know that is with the up most technicality; an ending, but perhaps rather than the events of my life folding neatly together I would rather have my world trail way without warning, simply to cut out mid paragraph and left open for another to take on.

"You feel different." Anna remarks as she stands in front of me, surveying my frame, her face creased with concern. She must have noticed that I am not eating enough that must be it. I would like to be able to lie and tell her something else, but I simply do not have the energy for a lie.

"I haven't been able to make it to as many meals as I would like." Hans is a rather persuasive deterrent and seeing as he is always in attendance for meals, I am often somewhere else, despite the price I know I will have to pay for it when he bothers to track me down.

Anna shakes out of what appears to be a daze. "When was the last time you ate?" The examination of my waist has ceased and she is now determined to divulge the specifics of my new eating habits.

"Don't you know?" I ask. "Or are you avoiding meals like me?" Part of me is rather embarrassed that when I do make it to a meal I do not have a mind to look for Anna. I am often preoccupied with escape routes.

"I haven't gone in ages, but I pick up food from the kitchens, I thought you were doing the same…" Anna's voice trails away. I know I need to eat, and I try to. I am rather hungry now that the topic has been brought up, but it is not always easy for me to manage it down to the kitchens without being seen by Hans.

"Can you bring me some?" I ask. I feel feeble having to beg my sister to bring me food. This should not be something I have to have someone do for me. I should have the strength to walk from here to the kitchens and back without having to worry.

"Ok." Anna agrees and I let out a breath of relief. "I won't be able to smuggle up too much, but I can manage a few sandwiches. Lunch in the library, I haven't done this since I was a child, me and father used to read in here all day, eating when the mood struck us and reading every moment we could" Anna's voice is wistful, but my stomach wrenches.

I am glad that Anna does not dwell on her youth anymore as she makes for the door. She promises to be back soon and disappears out in to the hall way. It hurt to hear her speak of our father, firstly because I never really got to have those care free childhood days, none of my days have ever been truly care free. The world of troubles has always been too prominent to cast aside for even an afternoon. Secondly because I have ripped any future such as that away from her, our father is no longer only thought to be dead, he is now undeniably dead.

It is my fault. I should have been nicer. I should have played along and just kept quiet. I thought that was what I was doing, but somehow it was wrong. I was wrong.

I soon hear footsteps approaching the library, light quick steps that can only belong to a woman. Anna peeks around the door with a broad grin on her face and several sandwiches wrapped up in paper. "Easiest thing in the word, I got up to so much mischief as a child that the staff don't even bother to look my way anymore."

The sandwiches prove to be utterly delicious and I find that, with Anna by my side, I can push away responsibility, not for a day or even an afternoon, but for long enough that I remember what it is to laugh and smile. In fact, as the sun goes down and the walls are bathed in all manner of hearty color my cheeks ache, and my stomach is sore from all the laughing. It is not remotely responsible behaviour for my situation, but it is the only behaviour I can manage.

"Will you go to bed?" Anna asks, looking away from the book she has in front of her.

I know she is asking not whether I shall sleep, but where shall I sleep, and in answer I have no inclination. "I don't know." The chairs here are comfortable enough I suppose, but to run the risk of someone walking in and asking questions, no. I will likely stick with my current regime of waiting until the darkest hours of the night and then sneaking in to my room. If I can wait until Hans is asleep then he will not catch me and he will not drag me back to "our bedroom".

"Something is going to have to change." Anna reiterates her statement from many hours earlier. It is still true; several hours of cheated happiness will do nothing about that.

"Something is going to have to break." Anna's eye brow rises at my cryptic response. "I know you need answers, and I know you deserve them, but…" My voice trails away as I realize that I do not know why I cannot tell Anna, I know I cannot, but I do not know why. Maybe, if I can find the strength, next time Hans losses his patience, and storms the library I can ask him why. Anna deserves to know.

I know Hans is acutely aware of where I am, but he has things to do and I would rather not be around as he does them. He is giving me this time and in any other circumstance I would be grateful for the unquestioned alone time, but with Hans I know he will demand payment.

It is cowardly of me to wait in the library and bide my time until he shows up. I cannot think of what else to do though, if I was to run away, Anna and my mother would be slaughtered. That blood would be on my hands, my father's has already stained them, and I cannot bear the thought of more being piled on.

"I promise I am doing everything I can to make sure we get back to normal." My promise is both weighted and empty. I am in fact doing everything I can, and yet I know it will not be enough. Nothing has been working, Hans is always angry, he hurts and he burns. Ice does not stand a chance against him.

"I know that you are trying, and I know that it is hard, and if it were only me I would not ask so much of you, but there is talk among our guests, they do not see the couple they expected." Everything she says is true; I do not disagree with one word of it. I hear the talk, the sly chatter; I know what the guests say. They are not kind or merciful, gossip can turn anyone sour.

I do not look at Anna; I can hear the desperate plea in her voice. Never have I wanted more to turn around and explain everything. My stomach clenches again and I worry that the sandwiches may be making an unscheduled reappearance. I feel so fragile, I do not like it. Feeling so brittle is distressing.

Anna approaches me from behind, her hand reaching out and coming to rest on my shoulder. Her fingers are warm and burn in the most reassuring way. I could break, I could fall apart on the floor, and she would pull me back together. I have fallen apart before, I was shattered in an ice castle completely determined to ignore the world and she brought me back. Not physically, Hans has the claim to that, but Anna brought me back to myself, she reminded me of what I was and what I can be.

I look back and catch her eyes. Thousands of things whirl about in my head, chiefly the realization that Anna is always there when I need her despite the fact that I never was. Our entire childhood was spent with me ignoring her, I forwent the chance to be her sister, but she never for one second stopped being mine.

"Just, please know that I am here, and you do not have to go about whatever you are doing alone." Anna says with a quick squeeze of my shoulder. She leaves the room without another word, no doubt in search of her warm and reassuring bed. I wonder if I should do the same.

Of course the promise of a comforting bed proves too much for me to resist and I find myself scurrying through the halls and eventually in to my room. A quick scout of all the corners assures me that I am alone and as safe as I can be, which really is not all that safe.

I pull away my dress and shimmy into comfortable sleep wear. My shoulders feel tight, but with several deep breaths they fall. The tension carried in them moves to sit some other place. I am not safe, I know that. Hans is undoubtedly awful, and my mother and sister are still in mortal danger; danger that the latter is not even aware of, but in spite of my troubles I managed to laugh today. My soul is remarkable heavy for one my age, but today it did not get heavier, today it is light.

* * *

**Yikes, that last sentence is not one I am proud of. Also, see, she got her hug. **

**Please drop a review to let me know what you thought, and thank you to everyone that reviewed last chapter. Next chapter will be out on Tuesday. I've written a Maleficent oneshot, so that will be up in a few days, it will not interfere with the uploading of this story, but you can check it out if you want. *Self advertising.*.  
**

**Also, I have a little secret about the next chapter that I am thinking about sharing with you... **

**Do you want to hear it?**

**You do!**

**I'm not sure if I should say. **

**Oh all right, but only because you asked so nicely. **

**Next chapter someone finds out about Han keeping Elsa and Anna's mother prisoner. I wont tell you who, you can guess in a review. **

**-Whovian123**


	25. Chapter 25

**Hi guys. This chapter, to put it bluntly, could trigger someone. There is no non-consensual sex, or sex of any kind, but it is still aggressive and potentially unnerving. **

**That said, there is a bit of Kasper, and someone does find out about Elsa's parents. **

**-Whovian123**

* * *

I wake up as I tend to do, jolted back to the land of the living by a nightmare to elusive and dangerous to describe. My heart races for several moments, but slows when my eyes realize I am in fact, very alone in my room.

The sun is only just starting to cast its strange array of pinks and purples in to the dawn. Had I the mind to look at the mountains I am sure they would be all too stunning and alive with color, though I am far too distracted trying to find a dress to wear and working through the pros and cons of breakfast.

I am ravenous, but terrified of coming face to face with Hans. In the end my hunger wins out and I ready myself for the horror that is my seat in the dining hall. With tight fists I make for my door, determined to get this over with so I can take to the library for another day of Hans dodging.

Someone beats me to the door. A rapid, almost nervous knocking sounds through the room. It cannot be the knocking of Anna, the beats come in a rhythm all to wrong, and the fist falls against the wood with more power than she has. At the same time it cannot be Hans, his knocking is assertive and angry.

With a flick of the doorknob I see that it is Kasper. He is standing with perfect posture, wide eager eyes which hide behind is glasses, and a bundle of Snowdrops clenched in his fist, presumably the fist he did not knock with. The fragile white flowers stand out against his freshly pressed green shirt. A glance at his face shows that he has shaved his jaw to reveal softer and younger features.

"Hello." His voice is not strong; it is almost scared yet distinctly determined. "I brought you flowers." He does not elaborate; he simply holds the Snowdrops out and smiles his nervous smile.

"What?" My reaction comes faster than my manners and I recoil at myself.

"Sorry, I beg your pardon if I may be overstepping boundaries." His voice is quiet now. "I figured you could do with some flowers, I've never seen your husband bring you any." A slight accusing note has worked its way in to his voice. He knows that he is right, and he knows that Hans is in many more ways a drastically sub par husband.

"I don't really understand why you put up with such an outrageous disregard for your flower…quota." The sentence ends rather lackluster as Kasper realizes that the metaphor at play does not fit quite as well as he seemed to have hoped.

"Thank you." I can hear the humanity slipping from my voice as I force myself to accept the Snowdrops without the emotional promise they carry. Kasper has only served to confuse me; his unfailing kindness throws me off and sets me on edge. I have becomes accustomed to anything but kind from my time with Hans.

His smile draws me in and as he turns to leave I call after him. I know I should let him go, we should both be going to breakfast, but I will take any excuse not to, and being occupied with a foreign prince must be excuse enough. "Don't go yet."

Kasper turns around, his eyes bright and his smile somehow boarder. "If you insist your majesty."

I usher him in to my room, glad that I had the mind to get dressed prior to opening the door. After a quick search I find a small blown glass vase that complements the Snowdrops rather well. The glass rattles against my desk as I set it down, my hands are shaking for whatever reason, but I cannot be bothered to wonder why they are doing such at this time.

Kasper is quiet and patient with me as my fingers struggle to place the flowers. It must be the thought of skipping breakfast, knowing that Hans will be angry at me on top of all the hunger from the aforementioned skipping. It must be that.

"What happened?" Kasper's voice shocks me; his tone has shifted from light and optimistic to blunt concern. He is closer to me now, so close that I can see his every eyelash. One of his hands is at my collar-bone, millimeters away from where my skin has healed in a shiny white patch.

"Nothing."

"That bastard did it to you didn't he." There is no question to it, he is simply daring me to say different. I cannot lie to him, and as I watch his fingers hover over the new faulty skin, I realize that I do not want to.

Kasper withdraws his hand and steps back, suddenly aware of himself and how close he is to me. He brings his fist to his mouth and coughs a nervous cough. I feel like I should say something. I do not know what, but I should say something. "It's fine. It healed ok, and I don't think he's going to do it again."

Of course Hans is liable to do it again, he never promised otherwise and even if he had I would not have believed him for a second. I still want to assure Kasper that I am alright, even if it feels as though my efforts are in vain.

"Your majesty, this is ridiculous. You cannot go on like this. You do not eat and you do not talk. You shut yourself away and ignore the world." Kasper launches in to a rant which I am all too eager to cut off.

"It worked for thirteen years why would it stop now!" I do not realize until a second after the fact that I have shouted the words. He may not know, he may not have been told. I was not eager for him to learn that my entire life has simply been me failing, for whatever stupid reason I wanted him to think that I was not an idiotic little ticking time bomb.

"Thirteen years…" Kasper's voice is melancholic. "Did you hate them all, every one of those thirteen years?"

"Every single day was hell."

"That's why it should stop, you don't deserve hell." Part of me believes him, that little inkling of a feeling that maybe I shouldn't have to spend my days with the threat of being beaten of branded hanging over my head. Then I remember the lifeless eyes of my father. He was killed and his head was placed on a platter all because I did something wrong, I don't know what, but I did something.

"Elsa," his voice shifts in tone and he uses my name instead of my title, "you are better than this."

"You don't know me. You don't know what I am better than, if anything." I am angry; I do not understand why I am as angry as I am. Or maybe it is sorrow, maybe the fury is a front for the tears I am fighting. I would rather Kasper be privy to tears of rage than tears of defeat.

I have turned away from Kasper, too embarrassed to look at him. He is confusing me, he leaves me feeling so confused and as of now; angry.

He does no try to say anything; he must be just as lost as I am. I hear his feet shifting, and I feel his nervous hands ranking though his hair. My fingers are tingling with ice. I do not know why, but my powers are active. They swirl and press at the edges of reality, desperate to pass in to the world and encase everything in a thin rime.

Then there is a knock on the door. The raps are hard and unforgiving, their sound cuts through the silence and the awkwardness replacing it with panic. We have done nothing and were going to do nothing; still I remember Hans's threats to Kasper the morning before he branded me.

So with a fervent air I grasp at his hand, ignoring the frost that I know is coating his hand and crawling across his sleeve, and throw him out in to my balcony, shutting the doors behind me and praying that Hans does not conduct a thorough inspection of my room.

The knocking does not come again, Hans simply decides that he is tired of waiting and lets himself in. I do not like the look in his eyes. His morning has left him far more bitter and angry than usual. His stride is aggressive and carries a trace of arrogance; in his grip is a severed hand. "This is what happens to you mother when you don't play nice." He does not shout. His voice is a cool whisper tinged with slicing steel.

I stumble back, my legs no longer willing to work. The hand is bloody, bruised, and no longer attached to an arm; no longer attached to my mother's arm. My heart is beating fast, and I want to scream at Hans. How dare he kill my father and then have the audacity to maim my mother all while pretending that he is not at fault.

"Did you not hear me?" Hans's voice is hard and leaves me no room for silence.

"I heard you." I hate myself for playing his game, for letting him tear my family, and me, apart.

"Good, and now you know why you shouldn't spend all day tucked away in your pathetic little library. Honestly, it's as if you thought I would just let to sit there forever. You listen to me, you do what I say, and you go where I say. Don't miss anymore meals or I will take your mothers other arm, or maybe I'll take her head. Do you think she wants the same fate as daddy?" As he rants his voice rises and he gestures wildly with my mother's hand.

I cannot stop the ice that chills the air, nor the snow that starts to fall. Somewhere in the back of my head I know that I am losing control, but I am also aware of the fact that I am so far gone that something is going to snap. Without truly realizing the consequences I let loose a bolt of snow at Hans. His face had been inches from him, his breath and spittle bombarding my skin with each word.

He is struck in the gut and falls across the room, only to recover far too well. The look on his face sends me to opposite wall. Hans is by the door and thus blocking my only means of escape. His steps are heavy and deliberate, each foot fall speaking of a way he will punish me. Each ragged and feral breath he takes is another bruise I will have to cover.

Before I can summon the magic for another blast of ice he is in front of me. He throws my mother's hand, which he has kept a firm grip on throughout the entire ordeal, on to my bed, staining the pale blue quilt with a dark crimson. His, now free, hand goes for my throat. He moves faster than I can react, there is a boiling rage in his eyes. Before he seemed as if her were a bomb, and know I know he has gone off.

"You slut, you goddam little whore. You have made an awful mistake." I struggle to breathe and paw at his hand against my throat. Rime is webbing across every surface of my room, thankfully freezing the doorway to my balcony shut. At least Kasper will be stuck outside, I do not want to think about what he will say when I let him back in.

"I would kill you for that. I should kill you for that, but I cannot. I have to keep your pathetic body around just long enough for you to give me my son. The strange thing is, I don't see a son yet? Do we need to give it another go? I think we should, because it's been almost two months and you haven't come to me with any good news yet." The implications are clear. I cannot go through that again. I have not been able to forget it. I still flinch when the wind blows and still scream when my dreams turn. My body is weak and desperately confused. It will not be able to withstand the abuse Hans is proposing.

So, in spite of myself, I beg. "No, please no. I can't. Not now, not here."

"Why not sweetie? You have already missed breakfast so no one will miss you, and there is a bed right here. I can't imagine a better time or place." With that he takes his hand from my neck and slides it to my waist, and then takes his other hand and twists my wrist with it. I bend around; trying to avoid the pain caused by the twisting, and find myself bent over my bed, my face not more than an inch from my mother's hand and the cherry stain seeping across the fabric.

I struggle and push, it only makes him laugh. My power heaves and I feel a burst of ice waiting underneath my skin. From my inopportune angle I can see the door to my balcony, the door knob is rattling, but the ice will not relent.

Hans is reaching around my waist and trailing his hand to my chest, where it first comes to rest on my scar, and then comes to rest on my breast. "So disappointing, many of the women from The Southern Isles have far more impressive and voluptuous chests, but I suppose that is the price one must pay to earn a throne, besides when you are gone I can replace you with whichever model I like."

I try, in vain, to block out his voice. Squeezing my eyes shut I focus on ice and snow. I channel what will I have and force it toward Hans. I know that it will only anger him, but I cannot let what he intends to do happen. My wrist, the one he has twisted around and is pushing against my back, flicks and sends shards of ice at his face.

He screams and I thrash. His hands come loose and reach for his face while I roll out from under him and come to my feet at the other side of the room. I brace myself, holding my hands out in front of me as a warning: a warning that I have been pushed too far and will not submit.

Hans looks at me ruefully, his face void of any damage inside from a thin line of blood stretching across his right cheekbone. "You foul wench. I will have your head for this; I can promise you that much."

"Leave." My voice surprises both Hans and I with its strength. It does not waver and it does not leave room for negotiation. Today is not a day which Hans will win, he has won so many others day and I will not let him have this one.

I do not know why, but for some blessed reason he listens, pausing for a moment in the door way only to be forced from the room with a gust of cool air. Once he is gone I lurch for the door, pulling it shut and cutting off the rest of the castle.

Before I can stop myself my power pulses once more and I release a ring of ice, much like when I froze Anna's heart. With the ring comes a scream, an animalistic scream which bubbles from my throat and does nothing to stop the ripping of my heart. The scream is soon replaced with sobbing. I fight it, of course I do, but I will not be able to keep my tears at bay any longer.

It is only once the salt starts to slide down my face that I realize my explosive circle of ice has knocked free the door to my balcony. Kasper is standing, dumbfounded, in the door way, his chest heaving from his effort to break the ice sealing the door. His eyes flit back and forth from the hand on my bed to me. With a quick movement something in him breaks and he rushes over to me.

I turn away from him, desperate to keep a modicum of composure, willing for him to pretend he saw and heard nothing. He does not speak. Instead he takes his hand ever so slowly and brings his fingers to the bottom of my chin, and then with the lightest of pressure he takes my gaze away from my mother's hand, and persuades me to look in to his eyes.

They are concerned and sad. He understands a great deal from what he heard, though he will still undoubtedly have questions. He does not ask them though. Without a word he takes me in his arms. He does not move suddenly or with aggression. It is the most comforting and enveloping hug I have ever had the pleasure of taking part of. His hand comes to the small of my back while the other rests against the back of my head. I burry my face in his chest and search for his heartbeat, it is the most reassuring steady thump.

I cry and hate myself for it, yet at the same time I know I can do nothing else. I have to cry. Kasper murmurs my name several times, never with the thought of getting an answer out of me, simply for the sound and the security. He tells me it will be ok, and a great number of lies, none of which I can bring myself to believe even for a moment.

It won't be ok. Of course it won't be ok. How could this mess ever become ok?

* * *

**There it is, Kasper knows, and will likely be asking a lot more questions next chapter. I wont be able to upload untill the 9th or the 10th because I'm heading out for camp, do accept my most humble apology. **

**Please review and let me know what you thought. **

**-Whovian123**


	26. Chapter 26

**Hullo. Yikes this is late isn't it. Sorry about that. It's also pretty short. Next one will be huge, promise. **

**This one is pretty terrible for Elsa.**

**Could you maybe please review? Most of them sorta disappeared when I stoped relying in story. If you want a response just leave a little "PM" at the end of your review and Ill get to you as soon as possible. **

**-Whovian123**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

Kasper stood with me for hours, and for that I am grateful. When the tears stop coming and I no longer have to gasp for every breath I begin to thank him. He insists that I own him nothing and tucks my head under his chin. Only now do I appreciate his height. My gaze is blurred and distorted by his green shirt. I apologize once more for getting the soft linen wet.

"It's only a shirt, and regardless it will dry." His words are spoken directly in to the top of my head, muffled somewhat by my hair, but still clear enough to decipher. I find myself relishing in the soft warmth of his breath. I do not like heat, but it does not feel like heat. It feels so much more than simply warm, as if it is a promise that he will always be there to speak in to my hair as I gasp and sob at his chest.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that." My voice is hoarse and weak. The sudden and unexpected strength I had shown now gone and replaced with pain. Hans will not let this go. I used my powers against him. I acted out against his wishes and brought him harm. Hans has forced himself on me, threatened Anna, killed my father, and maimed my mother, yet I missed his heart. I wish I had not missed. I wish I had the strength to chase after him and send an icicle through his chest instead of succumbing to the sobs.

"Don't ever apologize for that bastard." Kaspers voice almost scares me, it is rough and unforgiving. He will not stand for what Hans has done, and that scares me. Hans has a legion of guards waiting for someone to try something. I got lucky in the fact that Hans tried to attack me without those guards present, but I doubt Kasper will share my luck if he tries anything.

I begin to panic at the prospect of losing Kasper. "You can't do anything. You can't let him know you know. He would kill you. You can't let him know." My fists ball up in his shirt as my terror mounts. I need to know Kasper will not do something stupid. I need to know that he will be around next time the tears are too much.

Kasper , taking note of my panic with a worried glance, proceeds to wrap both of his arms around my back as tight as they can go, enveloping me in a hug that feels so incredibly right and pure, so much so that I feel disgraced to taint it with my presence. "I won't." His voice is low and deliberate; he does not want to upset me, though he clearly thinks that he should be able to go confront Hans.

"We need to get rid of it." I am referring to my mother's arm, which is still sitting on my bed, bruised and battered. My stomach clenches and nausea invades my senses as I contemplate how it must have been removed and where my mother may be now.

"Burn it." Kasper explains in to my hair. "It's the only way that will not leave evidence." I know he is right, it makes the most sense; not that any of my life is fond of making sense right now. Burning will be fast, clean, and will leave no extra blood stains or no physical evidence such as flesh or bone. We won't even have to leave my bedroom. So many negative feelings and memories already surround fire and my fireplace, piling on another one cannot do all that much damage, can it?

Kasper let's go of me and I feel as though I am floundering. After the all too frighting moment of flailing I turn to light the fire. The flint and steel bite against my hands and despite my best efforts my terror overwhelms me and I find that my shaking hands only prove to coat the fat fireplace with a white sheen of frost. My hand stops its quaking as Kasper's fingers take my own in his. His hand is warm, not an oppressive and impossible true heat that I feel when forced in to embracing other people, but a slight warming in my very core. My chest feels both lighter and heavier at the same time all while struggling to keep my heart beating.

He takes the flint and steel and flames jump in to existence, eager to burn and spread across the dead flesh of what used to be part of my mother. I cannot bear the sight, yet my eyes will not move. My vision is trained on the melting and charred flesh as I feel Kasper's arms wrap around me. The sight of my mother's hand overwhelms my senses as Kasper pulls me in to his arms as we sit in front of the fire. I watch the flames turn to embers, and the embers in turn; to ash. My nose and eyes sting and burn with the smell of what used to be an arm; I had not expected the smell to be so relentless and impossible. It sends my stomach in to a spiral and pushes my nausea over the edge.

I feel like a useless child staring at the pool of sick. I am scared and helpless, but I should not be. To my people I am a strong and wise leader; many of them are under the impression that I am living a fairy tale life with a husband who is nothing but kind and gentle. Had I been the child I now feel I am I would have turned to my mother and father for advice, but my father is impossibly gone and my mother is chained away in the belly of a dark and cold Southern Isles ship. I am stuck in a void, both falling and going nowhere.

"You should go." In the back of my head I am still all too aware that Kasper is here and is now privy to for more information than he ought to be if I wish to continue keeping my mother alive. He has to go, he needs to leave.

"I should." He whispers in to my hair, his voice speaking to the fact that despite his agreement he has no intention of going anywhere. In spite of myself I find that knowing he is not going to run away screaming my secrets to the world comforting. Maybe it is not much more than the fact that, at what feels like my lowest, he does not abandon me.

My powers are fluctuating. The walls of my room range from a light frost, to several inches worth of ice. Snow pelts us and winter winds whip at my curtains. The ash in the fireplace has frozen in to one solid mass of chalky black. My focus turns from the displays of my poor control and inward to settle on my breathing. I feel the rise and fall of my chest more acutely than I have in ages, and I search for my heart beat, resting only marginally easier when I find that it still has the courage to beat.

I force myself from Kaspers embrace on the floor and struggle to my feet. My legs nearly give out and I stagger in the most helpless fashion. I clean my sick from the floor and leave Kasper to stare at me from his position on my rug. His face is confused and angry. I can only imagine that his anger is directed at me and my inability to keep myself together. I am angry at myself for not being able to keep myself from falling apart.

Kasper stands and comes to rest behind me. He reaches across my body and takes my chin with his hand, with a slight and reassuring pressure he turns my head so that our eyes are locked in a stare that does not feel like it is enough. His mouth opens and he looks as if he wants to sat something, he looks as if he desperately needs to say something, though what it is I cannot fathom. Words do not feel like enough, not anymore. Kind words fall silently on my ears; anything other than an insult feels like a bitter and foolish lie.

"Please leave." My voice sounds far steadier than I feel. Maybe I can put on a brave front and convince Kasper that I am, despite the things he now knows, fine.

"Do you really want me too?"

"I need you too." No I do not; I do not want him to go. I need him here. My walls have cracked and crumbled and I am nothing more than a pelting ball of emotion.

"Ok."

Ever the gentleman Kasper leaves the room without another word. He will have questions, of course he will. Anna and him will be relentless in their determination to find out why I did the things I have done. I do not have an answer for them. Everything I did seemed to make sense before. Hans was threatening my parents and demanded I marry him. He never promised their freedom, but I convinced myself he would let them go. I could never explain the things I have done. Anyone would laugh if I tried to tell my reasoning, then I would be removed from my position as queen and placed in an insane asylum for suggesting such things as my parents being alive and imprisoned.

So I stand in my room, lost as to where I can go from here. Dinner, I suppose. Hans's threats bounce around in my head and I know skipping dinner will not be an option.

Clearing my head with several deep breaths I figure out what I have to do to get from where I am, to dinner. My hair is in complete disarray, my face is puffy and pink from the crying I am now all too ashamed of, and my dress is flecked with salty tears and sick. I stare at myself in horror. Of everything going through my head the fact that Kasper held me and told me everything was ok, while I looked such a mess, stands out as the most ludicrous.

Pushing my melt down from my mind, and preventing my gaze from straying too close to the fireplace, I begin to ready myself for the final, and my first, meal of the day. I snatch a brush from a drawer by my bed and begin ripping at the tangled mess atop my head. The pain of the violent tugging stops me from thinking about Hans. It stops the image of his face, or his violating threats, from roaming around my head planting seeds of panic.

I put the brush down and start tackling my apparel. The first dress I find is the dress I pick. I sling it on to my bed and, with no small amount of trouble, undo the laces of my current stained dress. With a sigh I slip out of the dress and then out of my underclothes. Coming to stand in front of my mirror I examine the damage Hans has ravaged on my body.

The shiny scar against my collar-bone stands out first. It is bright and brings with it a wave of fear for fire. Above it is the new bruise caused by Hans's fingers against my throat several hours ago. The ghost of his hand is mirrored on my wrist from him pinning me to my bed and proposing what prompted my power in to attacking him.

As my eyes roam over the plains of my body, a body which no longer feels like mine, I notice something odd. There is a curve where one ought not to be. An unmistakable rounding, a slight bump that has implications I cannot deal with. The panic turns my blood to raging fire and in an attempt to prove that this is no more than a trick of the light my hands fly to the lump.

My fingertips are met with skin, almost stretched skin, which covers the slight curve, the very real and existent curve. I cannot breathe. Never before in my entire life have I felt terror and panic such as this. There is no way out of this, it is undeniable. Or maybe it isn't. I need to have my suspicions verified.

I also need to go to dinner. I'll ignore it. My mind has enough corners to shove the bump in to one of them and let something else dance in the forefront of it for dinner. After dinner I can panic. After dinner I can cry and curse the world, but before that I have to sit through a polite meal with the man who could potentially have forced a child in to me.

* * *

**Guess what I just did, I dropped the ball. Thats right the ball has been dropped. BAM.**

**I know in the event that was I am inmplying is true that Elsa would not really be showing, but she is rather slender and the bump is realllly small. **

**Lemme know what you think, I struggled a lot with this. **

**-Whovian123**


	27. Chapter 27

**Hullo. Yes I know I have somewhat fudged the roundness of Elsa's possible situation, but come on, let's blame it on the ice powers? **

**Regardless I have a wonderful chapter waiting for you here. Enjoy and lemme know that you think. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

As I sit through dinner I decide that it does not matter. It is such a slight distortion. I must be imagining things. My mind must be addled from how little I have eaten. I am simply bloated. There are a thousand different things which could cause bloating, surely that is all this is.

Nevertheless when Kai comes around to offer up glasses of red wine during dinner I decline. I simply want to keep my wits about. I know that Hans is angry; I can see it in the way he holds himself, though I can also see the shadow of fear in the angle of his knife and fork. I have made him nervous, for the first time I fought back. I fought back, and I won.

He had marched in to my room, intending first to knock me to the ground with the knowledge that my mother was no longer whole, and then intending to take advantage of me. It didn't work though, for the first time I scared him away. Could I have done that at any moment before? Is that what this has been, Hans dealing blows that he knows will make me so numb that I cannot fight, as he tears my life to bits.

I thank whatever deities there may be that I had the forethought to wear glove to dinner. Had I gone without I am sure the table-cloth would be slick with ice, and the cutlery frosty and brittle. My fingers twitch about in my lap, desperate for something, anything, to grasp. If I have something to hold I can ground myself. I settle on wringing the edge of the table cloth.

Hans chatters about trivial matters with some dignitary to his right and I wait on his left hoping and wishing that he forgets I am here and goes to bed alone. He seems to have taken up the habit of sleeping alone; perhaps he is scared of me. Had my mother's hand debilitated me enough to render me a tearful mess the moment I saw it our encounter could have ended rather differently. My spine rides a deep-seated shiver as I contemplate the other ways it could have ended.

I shift my weight and pick up my fork before it becomes apparent that I have not touched a thing on my plate. The food, despite being the first I have seen all day, does not appeal to me. I cannot bring myself I eat. Logically I know that I am hungry, it has been to long since I last ate, but I cannot find it in me to eat after the events of today. So I listlessly push at the salmon on my plate in an effort to make it look as I am engaged and alive.

Kai, having abandoned serving wine, takes my, far from clear, plate, and replaces it with another which is laden with a small cake. Dessert, I am almost done, just a little while longer and I can hide away in my room, praying that Hans does not muster the courage to follow in behind me.

I dare a fleeting glance in Hans's direction. He has shoveled all of his food in to his mouth and is now inviting the gentlemen of the table in to "his study" for a discussion on treaties and political matters. As his chair scrapes against the ground he stands up and turns to me. I fight to keep from flinching as he leans down and places, what must seem, a chastise kiss upon my lips. "I'm going to talk politics for a while, don't worry thought, I'll come to bed at a reasonable hour."

He is toying with me now. In front of so many, my only choice is to smile up at him while my stomach churns and my chest constricts in panic. I may have been right, on some level, about him not daring to challenge me unless he has done something awful to paralyze me, but in front of outsiders he knows I cannot fight back and is free to say whatever he pleases. As he leaves the room I turn to face the table now full of women and Kristoff. To my dismay I see Kasper glancing back at me while Hans ushers him on and through the doorway.

The ladies of the table turn to one another and gossip about this and that while Kristoff makes his way through a fourth helping of dessert. I can probably slip away, no one would care. I can pretend I have important paper work, or that I have a meeting, a meeting of any sorts would do. Right before I start to move my chair backwards and get to my feet, Anna jumps from her chair and sprints over to me. All of the ladies look toward us as Anna nervously grasps my upper arm and shouts an excuse about ice sculptures at the table.

Leaving behind the confused faces and indignant whispers we rush out through the door that Hans had used moments earlier. I try to wring my arm free from Anna's grip, but she has far too tight a grasp, and I am far too tired to put up much of a fight. "What are you doing?" I may as well try to get some information out of her regarding her sudden desire to be anywhere other than the dining room.

"In a minute, first we have to find somewhere safe." Anna stalls me, her voice so determined and harsh that I stumble slightly. She has a goal that much is rather clear. Does she know something about Hans, how can she know anything? Did she overhear us fighting from outside my room? My pulse starts hammering in my throat as I imagine myself trying to explain everything that has happened to Anna, as I try to tell her the our parents were both alive until I messed up and tore us all apart again.

We come to a frightening stop near a window in one of the many distant wings of the castle. Anna turns to me, her eyes hard and determined. "Anna, what is this about?" I ask, trying to play dumb in the vain hope that what she has to say is of little consequence.

"I did some snooping. Hans came here on a boat, clearly he does not intend to leave, so why hasn't his ship left yet?" Anna's eyes are alight with victory; she thinks she has made a step towards winning, towards beating Hans. I want to explain to her why this is never going to happen. I want to save her from the false hope that clouds the mind as it tumbles in to a pit of failure.

"Anna." Her name leaves my lips as a warning. If she presses on she will uncover awful secrets and open herself up to the danger of Hans. He will not hesitate to kill her if he thinks he must. Anna's death would bring me to my knees and stamp out every flicker of spirit in my soul.

"And every second of the day there are soldiers waiting on the dock at in the ship, I don't know what they're guarding, but a man I was talking to said he heard the screaming of a woman come from the boat last night."

"Anna." I warn again.

"Elsa. If we can find anyway to tie Hans to whatever is happening in that ship, whether he is or not, we can force him to step down from the throne." Anna's face has brightened and taken on a more tender and sincere look, her eyes, now soft and kind, instead of the unsettling victory and revenge that they held moments ago.

"Anna, we can't."

"Why not? He hits you, Elsa, he hits you and I don't know why you let him. Please, I know that he is doing awful things on that boat. I do not know what he does, but I have a feeling you do, and it is my duty as you sister to help you when you cannot seem to help yourself."

"Anna, you are my sister, but you are also my subject. I cannot, in good faith, let you put yourself at risk in this way; you must leave things as they are and resist the urge to meddle." I beg Anna. She cannot meddle, she loves to meddle, but I cannot let her meddle when Hans is involved. Hans likes to make people feel awful, and if I have to be the barrier between him and Anna then so be it, I will gladly take the punches and the burns.

"Elsa, no." Anna's voice echoes off the walls. She has been driven as far as she can go. No longer will she settle for the cryptic non-answers that I am so fond of giving. "I can't let this happen any longer. If I have to watch you flinch during dinner while he tears you apart one more time, I don't know what I'll do." She is desperate now. "I have to do something."

It crushes me to hear how empty and desperate those last pleading words are. Everything I have done has been for Anna and our family. Everything that I sat and took was so that they might be spared. First I fail with our father, sending him to his grave. Then our mother is, presumably, tortured throughout the night and separated from her arm. Lastly, Anna, the one that I had hoped I had not failed with, comes to me, defeated and distressed. It feels as if everything I have done is in vain. Nothing has worked.

I have never felt more useless than I do now.

When I fight and try with all I am the world decides it is funny to take from me what I most love, Hans decides it is funny to take from me what I most love. So I am left here I the hallway, with Anna who is close to tears, and a sinking feeling in the pit of my chest that my bloated stomach is not as simple as that. I reach up to feel my mother's necklace. The pads of my fingers skate across the purple gem. I do not deserve to wear this necklace. It holds me to the ground and keeps me from giving up, yet I know I do not deserve to even look at it.

My fingers follow the chain around to the back of my neck. As my finger work at the clasp I see Anna's eyes widen. "Elsa, no."

The necklace falls away from my chest and I bring it to Anna's, careful to avoid trapping her hair as I redo the clasp around her neck. "You need it to more than I do."

"No, I really don't." Anna insists, though, as her hands fly to her chest I notice the way she fingers the metal. The necklace is undoubtedly cool and calming against her skin, I certainly did not lend it any body heat. After several moments of a silence, which starts tense but becomes much softer, Anna throws her fingers from the necklace to around my back. "Thank you." Her voice is watery as she chokes out the words.

"It's the least I could do." I insist as I return her abrupt, but not unwelcome, hug.

We stand for a beat, wrapped up in the warmth and safety of a familiar embrace. Only now does it occur to me how much I have affected my sister. When I married Hans it was not easy for her, but I did not understand the extent to which my actions tore at her. It must have been as if I was shutting the door on her again, leaving her to navigate the world without me following two steps behind and reaching out to catch the back of her shirt every time she tripped.

I am crying now, for the umpteenth time today I feel small stinging tears fall across my face. Anna might be sniffling too. I cannot be sure. My senses are both muted and heightened as a struggle to maintain my composure, which I lose most spectacularly. My fingers fight as I force myself to pull away from Anna. If I do not let go now I don't think I ever will.

"Elsa, I am here, I will always be here. Please, do not close the door again."

"I won't." I know that I am lying; I wish I was not, but I am. It feels as if I am always lying. My lips no longer remember what it is to speak the truth; the vowels and sharp sounds of honesty refuse to come forth from my throat. I want Anna to know who it was screaming in that boat. I want her to know that our father did not die on the open ocean, but instead was decapitated by Hans before our wedding. I want to confide in her what I am worried about, and have her standing beside me as I panic over everything.

"You should get back to Kristoff. The ladies are probably trying to get gossip out of him." I nearly choke on the words as I force them out. For as much as I want Anna with me, I know that she has to go. If Hans were to see us whispering in the hall he would jump to conclusions.

"Yes. I nearly forgot about him." Anna explains as she turns on her heels. She walks back towards the dining hall and I set of toward my room. I do not dare look back for fear of meeting Anna's eyes and breaking out in to a sob reminiscent of this morning, or on the chance of seeing Hans's shadow in the woven threads of a hundred year old tapestry.

My door looms in front of me. I pause several feet from it, worried that Hans is in there, worried that he is behind me, or above me. It feels as if he will be whichever way I turn. As if he is a specter lurking in the shadows, half existing until he strikes at me from behind a portrait. Will he dare though?

He ran from me today. I had the smallest of victories in which he ran from me. Maybe I have scared him with my act of independence. He will, undoubtedly, punish me and retaliate with some spine chilling act of violence. He needs to push me back in to submission, but until then I will force myself to feel strong.

I open the door, fighting the urge to flinch as the hinges creek. My eyes do not see more than the slightest hint of furniture as the winter sun has long since been replaced with a hidden moon. I operate on the assumption that everything is where I left it and make my way to my bed. I elect to sleep in my dress, because not putting night clothes on somehow feels like keeping the day I have had from being real. If I stay in my dress and sleep in my dress everything that happened in that dress can be frozen in time and pushed to the corner of my mind to be dealt with another day.

If Hans does decide to pay me a visit tonight I doubt my sleeping frame or creased dress will stop him from doing anything he intends to do, though I do not care. I am, for the briefest of moments, convinced that I have scared Hans away. Tomorrow he will have collected his cowardice and have a new threat to wave over my head, but until then I can sleep somewhat easier.

* * *

**Was Elsa too whinny? Lemme know with a review, because I think a few sentences were a little whinny. **

**I'll have a new chapter out on Tuesday. **

**Thank you**** to everyone that reviewed, I love reading them, they make my day awesome. **

**-Whovian123**


	28. Chapter 28

**Hi. I am sorry that this comes to you one day late. I dropped the ball, but I am historically pretty good at keeping to my deadlines, so rest-assured that this instance will not repeat itself. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

I wake to a knocking on my door. It is not so much a knock as it is a thump; an all too lifeless and slumping thump. My feet hit the ground and I push away the covers of my bed and lunch myself away the far wall of my room. I need to be away from the door. I know it must be Hans who is standing behind the door, and I know that I cannot be near that door.

It was not a knock though, it was a thump. Had it been a knock I would be climbing out of my window to escape whatever horror Hans may bring with him, but it was not knock. It was a thump. With the knowledge that it was clearly not a knock I consider approaching the door. Deciding that it is worth the risk I move forward. The rug scratches against my feet as I place my ear to my door.

Gasping, all I can hear is rapid gasping. Whoever it is on the other side of my door is in some sort of trouble. I just pray that it is not some ploy Hans has come up with to bring me to my knees. My fingers wrap around the door knob and I dare the briefest of glances at whoever thumped against my door.

Kasper, it is Kasper. His body is slumped against my doorway; his face and chest have a bright red coating of which I can only assume is blood. Blood, why is Kasper covered in blood?

I am not thinking, in full or half thoughts, when I pull his frame through my doorway. My heart starts battering against my chest as I haul him on to my rug. He grunts and yelps as I prop him up against the side of my bed. Panicked I scrabble at my quilt and press the balled up mess against Kasper's chest. He moans as I apply pressure, reaching up to scratch away my hands.

"No." I find myself shouting at him, swatting away at his hands. How is he here? How is he here like this? Why is there so much blood? It is all I can see and it is coating my hands. "How? What happened?" I splutter, struggling to understand anything about this situation. Before I can stop it, I notice several snowflakes fluttering down from the ceiling.

Kasper squeezes his eyes shut and his mouth follows suit. I cannot tell whether he is simply refusing to answer or if he is, in fact, in so much pain that the thought of keeping his eyes open no longer feels possible. I assume the first as moments later Kasper opens he eyes and mouth. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for?" I ask, baffled that the first thing Kasper can bring himself to do is apologize.

The blood tapers off and upon calmer and closer inspection I realize that the wound on his chest is not anywhere at serious as my panic driven self had first thought. He is covered in an array of other small abrasions though. His right eye brow sported a matted strip of dried blood, likely from a punch or object that landed too hard, and an impressively sized bruise has started shaping up along his jaw.

Kasper's chest has settled in to a much more calming and rhythmic rise and fall that, in turn, sends my breathing in to a far more relaxed state, though my breaths still do not feel deep enough. This was not some sort of fall or trip, not an accident of any kind. Someone did this, someone beat him and I can only think of one person who would do this.

Hans, it has to have been Hans. Why though? I am the one who takes the punches. Kasper has nothing to do with Hans, the throne, or my parents. So why is he slumped against my bed, wincing against the pain as a man would in the bright light of a new day.

Kasper's shirt is sticky and stiff with blood, which prompts me to try to pull it over his head. He takes a quick breath as my hands graze across the right side of his lower chest. Pausing with his shirt half off, I examine the large welt on his ribs. He has been thoroughly battered and I wish I could have been me instead.

"It's not as bad as it looks." Kasper tries to insist that he is fine and continues in his crusade to bat away my hands.

"How did this happen?" I need to know. I want Kasper to look in to my eyes and explain that it was anyone other than Hans. Why does Hans need to bring Kasper in to this? I can no longer pretend to understand anything that Hans is doing. He is crazy. I can close my eyes and mumble over the sound of screaming, but I cannot pretend that any of this makes any iota of sense.

Kasper does, to my relief, manage to look in to my eyes and offer an explanation. "I fell." His explanation mirrors mine from when I tried to talk away the bruise he had noticed on my cheek. The words he means are far clearer than those he says. Hans did this to him. Without a shadow of a doubt it was Hans.

I force rational thinking. Panicking serves no purpose. Kasper was beaten by Hans and likely several guards, but he is alive and safe in my room. Maybe not as safe as one would hope, but I force myself to pretend that I am safe, to pretend for just several hours longer that Hans is scared of me.

"Can you stand?" I have many more questions, several selfish ones, and quite a few more that I cannot put in to words, so I start with the basics. Can he move? Will I be able to get Kasper from my, now, blood stained rug, and on to my bed. If I can get him on my bed I can properly bandage his chest and address the bruises spreading across his skin.

Kasper nods.

"Ok." I bite my lips and focus on how I can make the transition from floor to bed as painless as possible. "On three?"

Kasper nods again.

"One, two, three." As the number sounds in the room I grasp Kasper's arm and haul him up. If I am being honest I know that I am doing very little to help. Kasper is strong, he can stand, it may not be painless, but he can stand. I just need to feel like I am not just being made to stand uselessly by his side.

Once Kasper has taken a vaguely more comfortable and accessible spot atop my, de-quilted, bed I bolt to my desk and rummage though my draws. My hand connects with a half used roll of cotton bandage I have left over from my burn. Closing my eyes I let out a sigh of relief. I will not have to leave my room.

The world will un-pause if I have to leave my room. For now I am stuck in my room, stuck with Kasper and the threat of Hans, but the threat is far more tolerable than the real thing. The real thing likes to punch, and kick, and burn, and force you to become a shadow of yourself out of necessity. If I was strong and angry Hans would run. He would run and he would run, all the way to Anna, or my mother, or to Kasper, and he would kill them.

If I fight back again someone will die. Was that Hans's message? Is that what Kasper's bruises are meant to spell. Is that why Hans held with him an air of malice as he left the dining hall? Does he now know that I am stuck, that I have been pinned in by those who matter to me? I was oblivious at first. I was willing to play along with the conviction that Hans would hand over my parents. The truth should have been far more apparent after I married him. My father's head on a platter should have woken me up to the reality or Hans's insanity. I was frozen though. My wedding night still haunts me, every moment of every day I remember it and dread any consequences that are liable to arise.

"It's not your fault." Kasper's voice pulls me from the downward spiral in which my thoughts were headed. "He is crazy; nothing that happens because of him is your fault, regardless of what he tells you."

I pull myself from my desk and fiddle with the cotton strip. "You don't know nearly enough."

"Then tell me. I want to listen, I want to understand." Kasper winces as the cotton presses against his wound. "I want any of this to make sense."

I stand in silence as I finish bandaging his chest. He flinches against the pain several times and I decide that none of the other gashes warrant being bandaged.

"None of this makes any sense." I let out a shallow breath and continue. "I used to think it did, but now nothing makes any sense and I'm scared, I'm scared for you, Anna, everyone, and myself. I don't know what damage Hans can do to the word, but underestimating him has caused too many problems."

"Elsa." Kasper's voice is weighted. He shouldn't have to deal with this. It is far too late for this, midnight has barely passed.

"Sleep." I command. I cannot have Kasper asking more questions. I need to be able to think, to think without censoring my thoughts with hope and humanity. Hans is evil, he is evil and crazy, and it is no longer an option for him to have this power over me. This will not end with my family reunited. This will end with everyone I care for dead.

Kasper attempt to clamor to his feet with no shortage of wincing.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"You told me to sleep."

"You can't leave. He's probably waiting outside."

"What's to stop him from waltzing in?"

"Me. He's scared of me right now; I used my powers against him. He wouldn't dare try anything so soon after."

"Elsa, this is no way to live." Kasper is right, of course he is, and I should not have ever thought anything different. This was the only way things were every going to turn out. Hans would not ever magically regain an iota of humanity. He would never let Anna, my mother, and I, be together again. He has no sympathy for family.

I place my hand on Kasper's chest, above the layers of cotton, and lightly push him on to my bed. "Sleep. It's late and nothing will heal without rest."

"I'm fine."

"Go to bed." My voice leaves no room for negotiation, though it is met with such regardless.

"What about you, you need sleep as much as I?"

"No I don't. It's late, you're tired. Please sleep I'll deal with this in the morning." I am begging now. I won't be able to sort this out in the morning. I likely will never be able too, but if I can convince Kasper to sleep, then I can think, and I desperately need to think.

Kasper meets my gaze, and, after several tense moments of staring, nods. Nothing more is said. He attempts, for several moments, to roll on to his side for a more opportune sleeping position, but eventually gives up as the pain in his ribs proves too much to bear.

I move away from my place beside the bed. The window offers a safer vantage point of the world. The moon is still hidden by heavy clouds. I let my forehead fall against the glass as my eyes trace the scenery. The walls around the castle are high and formidable, but I can see beyond them with ease.

Arendelle lays largely in the darkness of night, but several windows flicker with candle light. I wonder why anyone would bother being up this late. Maybe one of the candles belongs to a craftsman putting the final touches on a project, or maybe one belongs to a women trying to sooth a newborn back to bed.

I pull one of my chairs to the window and sit down. Before long I see the slightest streaks of sunlight peek out from behind the mountains. It will be the morning soon, people will wake up, and Hans will do something, something awful. I still have several hours at most though, and I intend to watch the sun gleam past the mountains.

* * *

**Let me know what you think?**

**I'll have the next chapter up on Monday. **

**Thank you for reviewing, favorite-ing, and following, you guys are the best. **

**Seriously, ya'll are the absolute best for putting up with me and my ironic use of "ya'll".  
**

**-Whovian123**


	29. Chapter 29

**Hey guys, I've got a nice 'n' big chapter for you all. It has the largest word count in a while. **

**There are about 10ish chapters left, give or take a few. So everything is going to get super crazy in a few chapters. **

**I wish you all the best. **

**-****Whovian123**

* * *

My back aches. Why does it feel as if I have just spent the night in a stiff wooden chair?

I open my eyes and blink back the light blaring though the window I am facing. I scout the room, looking for a clue about why I spent the night in a chair as opposed to my bed. My eyes fall in to Kasper's gaze, he has propped himself against my head-board and is watching me.

"Sleep well?" My voice is ragged with the effects of sleep still clinging to my body.

"Not as well as you seemed to have." Kasper allows for some light banter, which I am thankful for. Had he skipped the chitchat and jumped straight in to the threat of Hans I may not have been able to keep from returning to the panic of last night.

"Chairs do wonders for a good nap." Strangely enough this seems to be true, for whatever reason I slept well, it may not have been for long, but the several hours I spent asleep in this chair served to make me feel safe. I did not dream, my mind did not wander to the horrors that may lay in my future.

"Do you have any more bandage?" Kasper asks with his hand resting in a rather awkward position over the gash in his chest.

I nod and jump back to my desk, the spool of cotton fabric is sitting by a lantern and several blank sheets of paper. Kasper does not complain as I remove the old bandage with less than practiced hands. I may have had my fair share of practice with my burn, but bandaging other people is an entirely different task.

"Are you up to explaining how this happened?" I know that I do not want the answers, but the reality must be better than the thoughts dancing around in my head.

"Not all that much to tell. Hans took the other royals and I to his study. First we talked about politics; the other royals fed in to this banter and sipped his wine. Eventually men started to leave; they had to get back to wives, or simply wanted an early start. I made to leave several times, but every time i tried he asked me to stay for 'just one more drink'. After every other man had left he told me to take a seat while he stepped out for a moment. I didn't want to, but I didn't think it wise to disobey."

Kasper stops and takes a moment with his eyes closed tight. "Sorry." I apologize for jostling his sore ribs as I finished tying off his bandage.

He takes my hand and traces the lines of my palm. "It's ok. Don't worry about it. I do it all the time when people I have just met barge in to my room in the middle of the night, bleed on my rug and bed, then demand to be re-bandaged in the morning." A smile plays at Kasper's lips, a smile which I copy.

The smile slips from Kasper's eyes as he continues to explain the series of events that led to his bleeding on my carpet. "He came back with two guards. At first he was calm, but then he started accusing me of things, and then he started screaming things that I didn't understand. He left me with a message though; he had the guards slam paper weights in to ribs until I recited it back flawlessly."

I sit on the bed, my hand resting palm up in Kasper's hand. He has stopped talking, and I never want him to start again. The urge to spend forever on my bed is stronger than it has been in the last few days. It is different now though, I am happy here. I am reveling in the feel of Kasper's fingers skating across my palm, and the absurd and unmitigated safety I feel. It is no longer a safety based in my own icy powers; it is a safety based in the presence of the battered and bruised man across from me.

"He told me to say. 'Don't think you can win. Your icy tricks won't help anyone. Remember I won't stop at limbs.'"

I refuse to meet Kasper's eyes, or to utter a single syllable.

"Elsa, whose arm did we burn?"

"My mothers."

"You mean the previous Queen of Arendelle, the one who has been dead for over three years?" His words come slowly and with a deliberateness which makes me feel like a child.

"She didn't die, neither did my father. They didn't die at sea, their boat was torn apart, but there was enough floating debris to carry them to shore. Hans was the one that found them; he kept them in a cell, biding his time until he could use them to become king." I hate the shudder that creeps in to my voice, I fight against it with everything I have, but it coats my words and puts my fear on display.

"Is that why you married Hans? He threatened to kill your mother and father?"

"He didn't just threaten, he doesn't bluff. I thought I was doing everything he wanted perfectly, but the day of our wedding he killed my father." The quaking in my voice evolves in to gasping sobs. I am guilty, it is my fault that my father's dead. I could have done better. Now Kasper knows; he knows that I didn't try enough.

"Elsa-."

Kasper is going to lie and tell me it is not my fault, he is going to say things I will not let myself believe. So I cut him off. "No. Please, don't tell me I did everything I could; don't tell me that I don't deserve this. I do, I brought I on myself. I could have found some goddam loop hole instead of agreeing to marry him. I sold away my country for the chance to bring my family back together, and all I have done is tear us further apart."

I can feel the tears, and I hate them. They fall across my face without permission, determined to join my uneven sobs in displaying just how ruined I feel. It is the second time in far too few days that I have been reduced to tears in front of Kasper. For all my determination I cannot seem to control myself.

Ice crystals, is see the faintest ice crystals hanging in the air. I did not realize my lack of control has spread to my powers. The crystals rest in the space of the room, flowing with the ebb of the air. They are so small and so pure that I can hardly see them dancing around. They are streaming from my palm, the palm that is still sitting in Kasper's hand. His eyes follow; his face returning to the goofy smiling state which seems all too natural for him.

"I hear men talk about how beautiful you are, they whisper things that no married man should say about a woman other than his wife, but they always come back to this. They are so confused and backwards in their thinking, for they consider this to be a tragic thing. Too many men have woe over what they call; your fatal flaw. Those men, the men who say such things, I do not understand them. Ice is beautiful, it does not in any way compare with your beauty, but if ever there was a thing that could, it would be your ice."

It startles me to hear what Kasper says, though it is not the gossiping men that startle me, it is the idea that my ice is something other than a curse to anyone. My life has been a series of dangerous accidents caused by my ice, granted most of the time things manage to work out, even if a little tense for a while, but to hear someone call my ice beautiful. To know that in Kaspers mind my ice is not simply a dangerous inconvenience.

I do not have the words to thank Kasper, what I want to say sits in the back of my throat and refuses to move. So instead of arbitrary words that anyone could say I let my power surge in to my palm and out in to the air. Thousands of small glassy ice crystals spring in to the air, far more than there were before. They catch the sunrise coming in through the window and cast rainbows across every surface of the room.

We do not speak; to speak would be to taint a moment so pure, and weighted, with words. Words have no place among us, words are too simple and to false. Us being able to sit on my bed, draped in rainbows, is enough.

Then I remember that I have to go to breakfast.

Hans made it clear enough the last time I had the misfortune of being alone with him that I am not to miss anymore meals, and with the threat of a beaten Kasper hanging over my head I find the temptation to disobey quite small.

"Are you going to be able to make it to breakfast?" I doubt Kaspers ability to stand without limping or wincing in a far too noticeable way.

"Of course." Kasper makes to stand up, but is too cocky and instead of standing falls to the ground.

I scramble to help him up but he pushes my hands away. "Please don't. Moving makes it worse. Just go to breakfast. If you don't go he'll hurt you."

I nod and step in to my closet to change out of my well-worn dress. With my old dress discarded on the floor and a new dress clinging to my frame I accept that I can no-longer pause the world. I must step out of my room and deal with Hans. The world has let me sit quietly for long enough, and now the time for casting rainbows is over.

Stepping out from my closet reveals a splayed out Kasper draped over the side of my bed.

"Would you like some help?" I offer, trying to supress my urge to laugh.

"Maybe a little."

I grasp Kasper around the waist, trying to ignore the way he winces and the way his muscles flex. His skin is hot and tender around his bruises. I force myself to ignore the pained yelps that Kasper lets out as I haul him back on to my bed.

"Your ribs must be bruised." I explain to Kasper as I prod at the sides of his stomach, careful not to aggravate the more vicious looking bruises. "Here." I press my hands together, capturing a small pocket of air between my palms which I turn to ice. "Ice what hurts." I offer up the thin disk of frozen water and pray that the residual magic in the cold helps to promote healing.

Kasper accepts my offering with a pained smile. Through when he presses the disk to the largest and darkest bruise his face takes on a far more content expression. While his eyes are closed, and his mouth mid sigh, my feet carry me out to the hall.

I feel uneasy leaving Kasper alone. Hans has displayed that he has little moral quandary about hurting him to send a message. Skipping breakfast is not an option for me. If I am not at breakfast then it is only a matter of hours until Hans' fist is hammering against my door

My trip to the dining hall consists of frightening silent hallways, and steely eyed guards stationed at strategic and heavily trafficked positions within the castle. They unnerve me, anyone of them could be the men that beat Kasper, and one of them could be the man who cut Kasper. I do not trust any of them.

Hans is waiting for me outside of the dining hall. His gleaming boots tapping impatient rhythms against the ground. I have to fight the urge to flee and instead walk toward him. His lips curl up in to a sadistic smile.

"Don't think you can win. Your icy tricks won't help anyone. Remember I won't stop at limbs." He whispers the words in to my ear, his breath whistles past my cheek. I clench my fist and refuse to give him any emotion to use against me. "Poor little prince. He isn't well enough for breakfast? I guess I hit him a little too hard. It's his fault though; he took too long to break."

I walk alongside Hans in to the hall and then to my seat. All the while maintaining a blank face, not daring to so much a blink with too much zeal for fear of giving Hans something to use, or destroy.

Silence is the main feature of the meal. I do not speak, and Hans remains rather silent which prompts the other members of the table in to a quiet submission. Kristoff is the first to attempt conversation. "It looks as if we are in for rain tonight, maybe it will wash away the snow?"

His voice is strained; it is easy to tell that he feels uncomfortable in the silence. From what I have gathered he led a solitary life before he met Anna, but spending so much time around her must have made him used to chatter.

"Yes Mr. Bjorgman, I think you'll find that the snow does not have roots nearly as deep as it thinks." Hans drawls with condescension tainting his every vowel.

I ignore any hidden meaning Hans may intend and focus on finishing my food. Nothing can happen to me, not here, not with this many witnesses. The foreign dignitaries are people Hans wishes to woo and impress; he cannot do that if he does something unsightly to me in public.

The rest of the meal passes without any more attempts at conversation.

When I try to escape the room alongside several noble men I feel fingers wrap around my arm with a grip that is all too tight. My toes curl as he holds me in place, his voice is in my ear again. "Don't think you're going anywhere sweetie."

It is now that I discover the one downside to surrounding myself with people to prevent Hans from hurting me; I cannot fight him. He can use soft innocent words it torment me without detection, but a burst of ice is hard to ignore.

I wait, my gaze fixed on the grandfather clock tucked in to the corner of the room. The seconds swing by, carried forth by the persistent bronze pendulum. I do not know what Hans is going to do. I am not sure of what more he can demand of me. If he is to be believed I only have one purpose left. A purpose which I am starting to fear I have been too successful with.

"I am assuming you got my little message." Hans releases my arm, but not before forcing me to turn away from the clock, and towards him.

"Yes."

"So you must realize that avoiding me is not an option."

"Yes."

"Good." The word is forced in to the world with far too much malice. "Now get out of my sight, I'm sure princey boy needs more bandages."

I do not hesitate to sprint from the room, and I do not slow my pace until I am standing in front of my door. Only then to I dare to stop, and it is only because slamming in to the hardwood does not sound fun. The brass door handle slips through my hand on the first attempt, but finds purchase on the second.

The door swings forward and I dart in to the room, relieved to see Kasper still lying on my bed and without additional bruises or cuts. I force myself to breathe at a normal rate. Of course he is fine, nothing would have happened to him over breakfast. Hans left him alive when he could have easily slaughtered him, he must want him for something. Perhaps his country has resources far more valuable than I had thought.

"Are you ok?" Kasper springs the question on me so fast that I am taken aback.

"Yes. He was rude, but he's always rude, and he was frightening, but he's always frightening." I explain.

Only now do I survey Kasper and realize that he is sitting far straighter than before breakfast, and with a face free of pain. "How are your bruises?"

"Nearly painless, this ice does wonders." He holds up the ice and I see that it is un-melted. I allow myself a small victory at having made progress in controlling my powers and choosing to make the ice non-melting.

"I was hoping some of the magic would seep out and heal you faster, it seems to have worked." My fingers dance across the faded bruises along Kaspers ribs. The skin moves with the muscle under it and goose bumps follow my fingers. "Sorry, cold fingers."

"The cold doesn't bother me." Kasper insists.

"So you've said many times, but goose bumps don't lie."

"It's not because of the cold."

My fingers pause, resting against the skin directly above Kaspers belly button.

I shall ignore it. I have become an expert at ignoring things I ought to be dealing with, such as the small and horrifically undeniable protrusion nestled in my stomach. His words will not ring in my ears, and I will most certainly not look up to meet his eyes. My gaze shall stay firmly tacked on to the goose-flesh left in wake of my now stationary fingers.

I should move my fingers, I really should. Leaving them where they are is a massive breach in personal boundaries, but I feel stuck. My arm will not move, and neither will my fingers. Breathing has become rather difficult.

The skin under my fingers shivers, and I realize that it is covered with tiny snowflakes. My gaze breaks away from the goose bumps and turns instead to the ceiling, a ceiling which is sending thousands of tiny snowflakes toward the ground. I try to quell the flurry, but it is to no anvil.

Unsettled and ashamed that I cannot keep the snow from falling at an ever-increasing rate I clench my fist and pull them to my face. I need to block out the world. I need to be in control of something.

"Elsa." Kaspers voice has changed. It has lost all of its sincerity and is now filled with worry. "Elsa, are you ok? Is something wrong?"

I do the irresponsible thing and ignore Kasper. My knees come close to my body and I wrap my arms around them. I burrow my head down and blot out everything. I do not have the ability to deal with this, not right now. Not even on a good day am I remotely equipped to deal with goose bumps from things other than cold, and stomachs the refuse to stay flat despite my wishes.

Kasper must be confused, and likely rather worried as to why I have curled up in a mute ball at the foot of my bed, but I have thirteen years' worth of silence to draw upon and firmly ignore his calls of my name.

"Can you walk?" I ask, knowing that it is not what Kasper wants to hear. In all honesty I do not know what Kasper wants to hear.

"I can manage."

"You should go. Please."

I don't look up. I refuse to look at the word that is spiraling so far out of my control. Instead I listen, desperate to hear Kaspers voice. "Ok."

The mounting pressure in my chest does not lessen when Kasper agrees to leave, nor do I feel any relief when I hear the door open and close. Being alone is not helping, but being with people does not help either.

My hands clench again and I pull my knees tighter to my body. The skin on my palms is raw from the digging of my fingernails, and, in spite of my best efforts, snow is still falling from the ceiling.

* * *

**So, what did you think?**

**Care to perhaps leave a review?**

**I've noticed a significant drop in the reviews. **

**Loridhhp is the only person who reviews anymore, where did you all go? I miss you guys? Do you want me to respond in chapter again? Please let me know.**

**On a somewhat related note, Loridhhp you are the best, just the best. **

**Next chapter for you all on the 2nd of August. **

**-Whovian123**


	30. Chapter 30

**Hi. It's so sort. I'm sorry it's so short. I promise the next one will be huge, lots of major insane stuff will happen too, but untill then, enjoy what I have to offer: A really short chapter. **

**-Whovian123 **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

Lunch is a quiet affair, for whatever reason Hans is not in attendance. It is a blessing I decide to take without question. Kasper is sitting at the far end of the table. He does not look at me, and I do not look at him.

Anna has taken the seat to my left and we exchange pleasantries. Despite the shaky start to my day and my personal snowstorm I can manage a smile for Anna. I can always manage a smile for my sister. I owe her thirteen years' worth of smiles.

I clear my plate and am engaged in a conversation about the economy of ice harvesting with a short woman several seats down the table. The woman clearly comes from somewhere with a much warmer climate and is startled by the intensity of an Arendelle winter. Our conversation pulls my attention away from the others at the table and when the woman turns away to discuss the benefits of a more southerly climate, such as pineapples, avocado, and other things I have only read about, I realize that Anna, and many other lunch attendees, have left.

The clearing table serves as my cue to leave and I stand up in what could be considered an abrupt manner, but I do not stay long enough to dwell on it. My goal is getting back to my room without having to make eye contact with any one, not Hans, not Kasper; they make me feel scared and guilty. I cannot come face to face with either of them.

I pass by several guards, they stare past me and through walls with a steel stare that stirs my powers and sends a defensive tingle to my fingertips. When their gaze does wander from the walls it is only to follow my feet across the floor, to make sure I do not try something that Hans would not like me doing. In the days following my agreement to marry Hans I found that the guards I was familiar with stopped being stationed near me, and then that they didn't come to work. Hans could not have gotten away with killing them, too many families would have noticed, but they are out of jobs, and I am at the mercy of a madman and his undercover army hiding in plain sight.

The windows show that the rain Hans warned about at breakfast is rolling up to Arendelle. Heavy clouds push down at the ocean and the houses of my citizens. I hope that it snows. If it snows then in some confusing and roundabout way it will feel like a victory, not only because Hans was wrong, but because the snow makes me feel strong. If the world takes on a fresher layer of puffy white I could breathe deeper. Though, it feels as even the weather would not dare disappoint Hans.

I round a corner and pause. There is a noise. I can hear, faintly, the scuffling in shoes. It is not the scuffle of happy shoes. It is the scuffle of panicked, and threatened, shoes. I want to be able to ignore it, I want to be able to run back to my room and hide away from everything and everyone, but I know that no one in the castle is crazy enough to prompt such shoe scuffling other than Hans. Hans has pinned me in enough corners to know that being left to his devices is the worst place a person can be, so I know that I cannot ignore the panicked scuffling.

My hands shake as I close in on the sounds. I can hear a muffled voice now, and a not so muffled one whispering in harsh tones. It is Hans, that voice has whispered threats in to my ear far too many times for me to ever forget it. The muffled voice is also one that I know I will never be able to forget, and one that I fear will be taken away from me if Hans is too angry. The voice prompts my feet to fall faster and my fists to clench in shaky fists.

Hans has Anna. I do not know what he is doing to her, but he has her and I know only one thing; that I cannot allow him to be near her for a second more. I break out in to a run and turn what I am hoping is the last corner separating me from my sister.

It is.

Anna is against the wall. Her head pushed back by the tight fist Hans has in her hair and her fearful eyes trained on the ceiling in an effort to avoid meeting Hans's own angry ones. Her hands are pushing at his chest trying to keep his hands away and her feet are kicking blindly, scuffling against the ground and the wall.

He has a knife held tight to Anna's throat, stretching, pressing against her skin, and threatening death. Her face is slick with tears, fat, desperate, and terrified tears that streak across her face as she begs for him to let her go.

"You despicable wench, you were snooping. How dare you try to find out what is in my goddamn boat. It is not your business what I have stored away in boats." Hans spits the words at Anna with more malice than I have ever seen. "I will kill you. I do not need you. You are not the queen. You are only a little princess who sits and smiles, so do not think about trying to snoop, ever again, or I _will_ slit your throat."

I do not give Anna a moment to respond to Hans cowardly threats. My feet throw me from the ground and send me plowing in to Hans's side. He stumbles, swears, and drops the knife from Anna's throat. She springs from against the wall and ducks behind me. I can hear her gasping and sobbing, it drives me to shove Hans further away from us.

His shirt is coated with ice. I have not hurt him though; I have not done nearly enough of what I want to do to him. "You bastard." My voice breaks in to the air with a deadly cool whisper. "You bastard, don't you dare ever think about touching her again."

Hans reaches down for the knife he dropped, but I kick it toward Anna before his grubby arrogant fingers can feel the cool steel. He offers me a furious look. A look which I return. "Elsa, I believe you are forgetting your place, shall I remind you or will you leave me and your sister alone?"

"She was never part of this. She is safe, you do not touch her." I can see the frost peeling away from my body, the curls of chilled air and ice crystals waft around me, and circle Anna in a ring of false protection. He will not touch her, not ever again.

We stand at a stale mate. Hans not daring to push me further for fear of an ice blast to the heart, me not willing to give an inch when it comes to Anna and her safety.

"Elsa, you know you're not allowed to behave this way." Hans's voice is a façade of strength. Underneath his assurance is the slightest tick that worries I may be harder to control than anticipated. I will get Anna out of this situation, but I will pay for it in some twisted way, I always pay for it. Hans will find a new way to kill the parts of me that still cling to hope. He will find a new way to stop happiness from taking root.

"Go away." Anna has found her courage, and her breath, and is shouting at Hans from my side. "Just go, you don't need to be here right now."

Hans's gaze slides from me to Anna. His eyes are still far too wild for a sane man, and the gleam they take on as he offers a small nod scares me. "You're right. There are many other, better, things I could be doing right now. You two can sit together and tell each other it will be ok. You're going to need the boost." His voice is conspiratorial. It worries me. He knows what he is going to be doing to force us back in to line. He has the plan and simply needs to execute it.

Before I have a chance to interrogate Hans Anna has grabbed my hand and is hauling me through corridor after corridor until we come face to face with the door to her room. I tear the door open and push Anna in to the room without a moment to consider anything. Her room is no more safe than anywhere else, but it may still add a level of comfort that calms the quaking sobs ripping from her throat.

I shut the door and turn to sit Anna down, but I find her in my arms and clutching at my frame in a hug too desperate for words. She is scared. She wanted answers, but she wanted the answers to be easy and a quick fix. I wish I could have protected her better, I wish I was not such a useless big sister as to not be able to keep her safe from Hans. She has already had her own war with him; I need not let her fall in to mine.

Her hands ball up the fabric of my dress and scratch on my skin as she fights to regain hold of reality. For several seconds I want to let go of her, to keep her from tipping back in to the world where we cannot walk freely around our country, where we are made to act like criminals lest we face an angry knife wielding Hans.

"Elsa." Anna's voice shatters the silence. "Elsa. I'm scared." Through the sobbing and gasping I can hear her words far clearer than I would like. She is scared, of course she is, she would be foolish not to be, but I do not want her to be scared. I want to her to be happy. She is my sister and I wish the best for her, but I cannot give her the best. Instead of the best she is here, weeping in to my chest and holding tight to me, because to hold tight on to reality is not an idea which she can even entertain.

"I know. Anna, you have to stop looking for trouble. Hans does not bluff. He will do awful things if you cross him. I don't want you to get hurt." I mutter the words in to Anna hair, desperate to find words that will make this ok. I need the words to make Anna safe and happy; though I worry they do not exist.

Anna continues to gasp and gag against my chest. Her cries hollow and empty as her chest refused to let any of her terror out in to the world. Tiny lines of frost are creeping across the walls of the room, encasing us in a tomb of sorrow. Maybe I can freeze the door shut, maybe I can use my powers for something good. We can spend the rest of our days tucked away in Anna's ironically cheerful and colorful room, dutifully ignoring the world outside and forgoing our responsibilities.

We cannot, it is a ridiculous notion. I will have to control the ice leeching in to the walls, and Anna will have to stop crying. We will have to open the door eventually. Dinner is in several hours and I cannot miss it. I cannot even give Anna the time she needs to haul the shattered parts of herself back together. I have failed her in every way a sister can, in every way a Queen can, and in every way a human can.

* * *

**How was it? You wanna leave a review? You all spoiled me with reviews last time (Mainly because I asked) and it was so awesome.**

**I'll have a new chapter for you on Thursday. **

**-Whovian123**

**Guest: Yes, yes I do. **

**bexmad: Thank you. It will probably get better, and there is lots of revenge to be had. **

**Aamp: Thank you, and yes I had been missing Anna. We got some of her in this chapter, and much more is yet to come in the next few. **

**Ashley Tenant: Thank you. Hans has a network of guards that have infiltrated the castle and have orders to slaughter Elsa's mother if anything Happens to Hans.**

**Guest: can't tell you, sorry. Thank you. **

**KarissaGrace17: Thank you. I'll do my best. **

**Loridhhp: Happy belated birthday. *Joins happy dance.* Yes, Elsa is in an insane place right now. I'm sure everything will work out, maybe. Anna is back, she took a detective type vacation for a little while there, but shes going to be a large part of the coming developments. Also, mad jealous that you got to see Idina and yes that does will coax out an extra awesome super long chapter next time around.  
**

**Yulissa: Thank you. I hope you're not too young, don't force yourself to read something you are not comfortable with. Also, sorry, but no. Kasper does not have powers, has never had powers, and will never how powers of any kind, whether it be ice, rain, fire, or anything. **


	31. Chapter 31

**Hullo, how are you on this fine day? Oh, that's very good to hear. I'm here with the aftermath of that little scuffle Hans, Anna, and Elsa had. You'll get to see what Hans's payback is. I hope you like the chapter, it's not quite a super mega long as I wanted it to be as I was short on time, but it's still on the bigger side nonetheless. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

"You don't have to go." I try to explain to a puffy eyed Anna that is does not have to go to dinner. It is me Hans needs at meals. Anna is a fixture which, while present and reassuring to our guests, does not have to feature.

"Yes I do." Anna insists with I shaky voice. "We're sisters. "You're there for me, and I'm there for you." She blots at her eyes, trying to wipe away the sore redness, but failing to look any less shattered.

"Of course, but, Anna, that applies to different… safer situations." I wish I had a nicer sounding word, a word that would let Anna feel at ease again, a word that would let her forget his fist in her hair and the bite of a blade at her throat.

"Unless you tell me why this situation is just so unsafe I won't leave your side. We protect each other." Anna's relentlessness almost makes me smile. She pulls me in to a hug that rips away my crumbling resolve. It is not safe for her to be around Hans, but it is also not safe for her to be away from me. If I leave her in her bedroom alone during dinner any number of Hans's guards could come and do any number of things to her. This could still happen with me by her side, but at least I would be the prioritized target instead of her, and I still have an icy edge over everyone.

Hans has weaved a careful web of threats, and obligations to keep people alive, but he will never be able to take my powers from me. He may stifle my willingness to use them, but they are always brimming when he gets cocky or over steps his boundaries.

He has overstepped his boundaries, he has done more than that today. Today he took a running leap over his boundaries and then kept going. I touched my sister. He attacked her and I was not there until he had her against the wall with a knife. I was there to late, but I could have been even later. I could have ignored the scuffling; I could have taken a wrong turn. He could have killed her. It would not have made sense for him to kill her, it would have been obvious and un-ignorable to the public, but he could have done it. I do not trust him to honor any agreement or deal regarding her life.

I won't let her out of my sight. Every second of my day will be keeping her safe, and if, for whatever reason, I have leave her side I will watch him. I will make sure they do not ever touch again. If he needs someone to beat and threaten then I will take her place. I agreed to this, she did not.

Anna tugs at my hand to bring me back to the world as we set off in the direction of the dining hall. She is braver than me; she collected herself with more grace than I knew one could. Her strength is understated and I envy it. Anna would not find herself in the corner of her room crying with fits of hopelessness and despair; she would carry on through trials and defeat tribulations. She would have the strength I cannot find.

"Don't look at him. If he tries to talk to you I'll distract him." I whirling through all the things that Hans might have planned. He must have something planned. I would not be allowed to get away with such an open display of disagreement, even if our audience was limited to Anna.

Neither of us speak again, not until we are both seated in the dining hall with heaping plates sat in front of us do I consider that Hans may have forgone punishment. He joins Anna and I in our silence, in our crusade to ignore the events hours previous and move forward to whatever hurdle we have to tackle next.

A hum of conversation fills the air as everyone fills with food. It seems as if my guests found today to be largely present, even if tonight promises to be nothing but the drum of rain punctuated by the thump of occasional thunder.

I survey the table with as much stealth as I am capable. Every chair is occupied, no one daring to be caught in the rain when it breaks from the clouds, every chair except one. The chair next to Anna is empty. Had it been any other chair I would not have worried, but this was the chair next to Anna. The chair next to Anna never dared be vacant; the scathing look its usual occupant would receive upon vacancy was too much to risk.

Kristoff is missing. I can see the mounting panic is Anna's eyes; she wants him to be late. She needs him to burst through the door, clumsy and covered in rain, announcing all too loudly that he had to take care of some ice related thing. He won't though. Hans is wearing a smug grin that tells me he had far too much to do with this.

If Hans has Kristoff then surely within a matter of days someone will notice the prince has been is absent from meals. He has no reason to be away and I cannot think of a reasonable excuse for any extended absence. All of this is assuming that Hans has Kristoff alive somewhere, he could have snapped, it looked as if her were about to kill Anna, maybe this is his idea of retribution.

Kristoff cannot be dead. Hans is too smart for that. He must see the problems that would bring, the blame would shift to him whether or not he wanted it to. How could he avoid it? Will we find Kristoff's broken body splayed out somewhere later today? Will it be staged as some sort of easily avoidable accident? Will it be my fault?

Will Anna be able to recover? If Hans has killed Kristoff will she be able to pull herself out of bed every morning? Will she be able to force herself to sleep? I know that I cannot let Hans hurt my sister in that way, or in any way, so I wait with bated breath for Kristoff to make a grand, albeit far too late, entrance.

He does not.

The meal comes closer and closer to its close and the ice harvester is still absent. No one else seems to notice, or no one else cares. I start to panic. My heart dares to beat faster, and the back of my neck tingles with the unmistakable terror of death. He would be the second person to die because of me, first my father and now Kristoff. I do not know how I will ever be able to speak to Anna again.

People start leaving and I follow suit, the farther I can get from Anna the better, I do not know how to apologize right now. The wave of bodies and soft chatter carry me along hallways and through to rooms I did not know the castle had, although without a destination in mind I end up alone, save for Anna and Hans, the two people I know I cannot escape, but wish I could.

"Ladies." Hans's voice is clear and to the point, he has done something and he is all too eager to explain it. "I presume you noticed the absence of your little friend? Kristoff was it?"

Anna makes for Hans with an all too brave and reckless swing of her arm. I catch it seconds from his face and recoil at his chuckle.

"Cute, but you might want to hold off on that if you ever want to see him alive again."

I let out a breath so great I fear I may deflate. He is not dead; he is alive, for now at least. No new blood is slick across my hands, though he is still in danger of joining my father. I have to keep him alive; I have to keep him alive for Anna. Anna needs him and I need her, so he has to stay alive no matter what.

"Where is he?" Anna struggles against my grip as she shouts the question at Hans.

"Remember that boat you were snooping around, well now you know who is inside."

Nothing Hans has to say will make Anna feel any better. She wants to hear that Kristoff is safe; despite the fact that safe is something he may never be ever again.

"I don't believe you, how did you do it. You couldn't have gotten him on the boat, not by yourself, he's too strong." Anna refutes what Hans has said. She must know that he has no reason to lie.

"He is a brute, I'll give you that, but when you have enough guards strength becomes a non-issue." Hans strolls toward Anna, confident that my grip on her wrist is enough to keep her from lashing out again. He seems to have forgotten her right arm is still very much free and is then clipped by it in the chin.

Han stumbles back, though I fear it may be from outrage as opposed to outright pain. "Would you like to see him?" Hans offers with, what is paraded as, generosity, but is actually just a different way to beat Anna down. Seeing Kristoff chained to a boat will not help her, she will not be able to observe the situation and realize the finesse needed to keep him alive. She will be rash and brash.

"Yes!" Anna latches on to the opportunity to discover that Kristoff truly is stuck in the bottom of a boat, covered in bruises, and bound by chains. "I demand to see him. I have the right to see him."

Hans chuckles and bars his teeth in a smile reminiscent of a snarl. "You haven't had any rights for a while sweetie." He turns on his heel and flourishes his hand in signal for us to follow him.

Anna looks indignant and goes to insult him, but then guards appear from the walls and round the corners so suddenly it feels as if they materialized from the space in-between seconds. Her eyes widen as she realizes the men hired to keep her safe may, in fact, have the opposite idea in mind.

She decides to pick this battle for another time and resigns herself to stepping in to place beside me as I followed Hans out of the halls and in to the open air of the gardens. Anna's arm swings in to mine again and again, she is too scared to walk alone, yet she is too stubborn to take my hand in hers. I save her the internal battle by opening my palm and taking her hand in mine. She offers an appreciative squeeze which I return without hesitation. I may pretend that I am doing her a favor, but it helps settle my nerves just as much.

The word sits quiet, the people having taken shelter within their houses, and the sky mounting until it bursts. I hope that whatever is going to happen on the ship can happen before the rain starts. Getting stuck out in the rain is not particularly bad for me. I can manage the constant cold battering of rain, I do not even register the cold, but Anna is a different story. She is small and tiny; small and tiny things, such as flowers, do not do well in the bitterness of a winter rain.

Hans turns around with a rather abrupt manner about him, maybe he too is wary of letting us rot in the rain, or perhaps he is simply worried for his hair and the damage a deluge may inflict upon it. "You must know that any attempt to free your _love,_" I dislike the unsavory way in which he inflected the word love, "will result in your capture, or perhaps your death, depending on how determined you are."

The words are directed at Anna, but I intrude before she can come up with a sass filled remark that will only serve to bring Kristoff pain. "Of course. Do not worry; I can keep her under control."

To call the emotion on Anna's face anything as simple as betrayal would be a crime. Yes, she does play briefly with betrayal, but she also flits through horror, and, to my luck, understanding. I would appear that Anna understands, to some extent, that we have to play along.

Hans has Kristoff, and Anna wants to see Kristoff, she wants him to be safe when she sees in, and when she leaves. So in order to keep her fiancé alive she will have to behave without the impulses she is known for, and she will have to learn how to lose.

Hans does not let you win anything. He ensures that he always comes out on top, or ahead of you. You might think that, in the long game, your chances of success are worth it, but the closer you come to the end the more you realize that you were destined to lose from the beginning. You never had a chance.

Hans does not look back at us as he boards the boat. Several guards follow with him, and several stay with Anna and me; keeping us from running, as if we have somewhere to run. Anna looks to me, asking with her eyes whether or not to follow Hans. I board the ship without giving an answer; I do not have an answer. Anna must make her own choice, can she bear to see the things in this boat. Will she get to see everything in this boat?

The thought of Anna knowing the truth about our parents it both a relief and terrifying, no longer would I have to keep it a secret, but she would know the truth of our fathers death. She would know that I could have, should have, stopped it.

Anna does decide that she should board the ship, and then promptly does just that. Hans continues to move further and further in to the boat. I take Anna's hand in mine again when she refuses to venture further, as if she is rooted to the spot in which she stands.

Hans tells us to wait on the deck. Several guards surround us to ensure that we follow orders.

Hans has disappeared in to the corridors of the ship and is likely to return with Kristoff at any moment. For Anna's sake I hope that he is not hurt. Maybe Hans is simply trying to display his power and will let Kristoff go free with Anna after getting his message across.

Anna does not try to talk, the presence of the guards, and the worry about Kristoff is too much to be alleviated by chatter or reassuring nervous smiles. I stand as still as I can, willing the chill that hangs in the air to remain that and nothing more.

A slight banging noise comes from behind the door Hans had disappeared behind. It is almost a dragging sound, the sound of a person being pulled through corridors.

Anna stops breathing as the door opens, and only takes a sharp breath when she sees that Kristoff is alive. He may be bound by chains, and a little worse for wear, but he is alive and awake.

"Kristoff." Anna dares to let out the slightest whisper she can manage. Her eyes meet with his and he calls out her name. He comes to regret his action when Hans delivers a kick to his stomach.

"Better." Hans states in sharp tone. "Now, I trust you to stop snooping around boats now that you know what is on them." He says turning his attention to Anna.

"Please, let him go. He didn't do anything. I was stupid, I won't do it again. You have to let him go." Anna pleads her voice thick with sobs.

"That's where you're wrong. I don't have to do anything sweet Anna, for I am king, and no one, not a single person, disagrees with a king."

Hans is far too proud. He does not understand what it is to rule, and I hope that it is downfall. One day, perhaps long after I have expended my usefulness, someone will be able to see through the debonair and tear him down. It will not be me, whoever manages to be so great as to destroy him must have nothing to lose; Hans must not have a hold on them. Hans has far too many threats to dangle over my head.

"Anna," Kristoff's voice is commanding and assuring, "don't do anything that he says. I'll be fine, don't do anything ok? Just be safe, please be safe." His eyes are pleading and desperate.

Anna nods and then turns away. She buries her face in her palms and presses against me for reassurance. I take her in my arms and nod at Kristoff. I may have landed Kristoff in this mess, but at least I can promise him that Anna will be safe.

"I love you. Anna I love you, please don't forget." Kristoff shouts as Hans motions for several guards to take him back to the bowls of the boat.

Anna breaks away from my side and shouts. "I love you too. I love you so much, please, please. I love you." The final words are nothing more than a whisper as Kristoff's panicked face is covered by closing doors.

Soon curse after curse is flying from Anna's mouth as she swings her balled up fists at Hans and tries to break past the remaining guards which have formed a barrier between my sister, and the bane of my existence. I lurch forward and take Anna in to my arms, letting her cry in to my chest and shout what she needs to shout to make it hurt less, to make it feel like anything but the end of the world.

* * *

**So there it is, Hans has gone one step further and taken Kristoff as a replacement for Elsa's father. I guess only having one hostage wasn't enough for him. Please let me know what you thought, all reviews are good reviews and I love reading what you think and improving my work.**

**I'll have a new chapter out on the 12. **

**-Whovian123**

**Loridhhp: She is in deep, and Hans has no intention of letting go (unintentional pun), but Elsa will do anything to protect her family. I can promise you that Hans probably, almost ****defiantly, doesn't kill their mother. Maybe.**

**Inky Ivory: I love your review. Thank you so much. **

**bexmad: He really doesn't, does he. Can't really let to much slip about Elsa's "situation" but I can promise some concrete answers in several chapters.  
**

**Yulissa: Thank you so much. I would be cool, but it didn't fit the character and the story. **


	32. Chapter 32

**Hello. How have you been? Oh, I've been good, very good. I have a nice new chapter for you here. **

**It's not a huge one for action, but it does focus a lot more on the sisters and their relationship, I know there was a shortage of Anna a few chapters back, so I'm making sure you get a lot of her here. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

We leave Hans on the boat; he can make his own way back on his on time, or he can never come back. I would prefer the latter, but I know it will be the prior. Anna stays huddled to my side, sometimes I can hear her breath, but once the rain starts everything is drowned out by the splatters on the cobblestone.

The guards do not bother walking us back to the castle; they know we have nowhere to go. It would be foolish of us to run off in to the mountains, I could manage the cold, but Anna would not last very long, and I could not leave behind our mother.

I want to tell her. As we rush through the castle gardens, battered by rain and wind, I nearly tell her. The words dance with my tongue and threaten to reveal everything, I want to reveal everything. I want to be able to panic and cry with Anna as we worry about, our mother and Kristoff, but the words are too heavy. The weight of them sits in my stomach and festers with the dinner I had forced myself to eat.

She shivers against me as we stampede in to the castle. I wish I was warm. I wish I could be a beacon of warmth and wisdom to her. She insists that she does not mind chilly hugs, but I wish I could feel human to her. I take her to her room; she needs to see something familiar while she comes to terms with Kristoff being Hans's prisoner.

I set Anna on her bed and wrap several blankets around her, trying to keep from brushing against her. I can see the shiver that dances across her skin when I touch her; I know that I am too cold to help. My fingers slip as I drape the last blanket over her and I send a bolt of snowflakes across her cheek. She shivers and I swear as I jerk away from her and fall to the floor, desperate to be able to help, but unable to touch her.

"I'm sorry." Useless, I feel incredibly useless. I cannot even offer Anna the warmth of a blanket without messing up and losing control. "I got us in to this. I agreed to marry Hans." I know that I am going to cry, I can feel it building in my chest and behind my eyes. "I'm so sorry. I ruined everything."

Anna ignores the snow streak along her cheek and reaches a hand toward me. "I don't care. How we ended up here doesn't matter. We have to do what we have to do to keep Kristoff alive. Please, just keep him alive."

I take Anna's hand and nod. If Anna asks it I will do it. She pulls me up and forward, sits me beside her, and then starts to shake with the sobs that are building within her. I chance am arm around her waist to offer a hug. She leans in to me and her cries become far more vocal. I know that she has a thousand things she wants to say, I have a thousand things I want to say, but they are impossible to get out.

"Nothing makes any sense." Anna tries to explain herself in between her gasping sobs. "I love Kristoff so much, why is Hans so mean?" Her question breaks me; I know that my cheeks are now slick with tears. I brought this onto us. Hans is king because of me, he has Kristoff because of me, and he killed our father because of me.

"I don't know. Some people… their souls are shadowed, what they should do gets tossed aside by what they want to do. They forget that other people exist as people and not pawns." I struggle to find a way to make sense of Hans. "Hans is… I don't understand him but I know he's not safe, don't ever be alone with him. Promise me please."

"I promise, but you have to stay away from him too." Anna insists.

"Anna, it's complicated."

"No it's not, he hurts you and I won't let you keep doing this to yourself."

"Anna." I try to say something that will calm her down, something that will reveal the terror of Hans to be nothing more than an inconvenience at most. My voice trails away as I realize that I cannot bring myself to lie to Anna anymore. "It's awful, and I know you hate me for it."

"How could I hate you for it?" Anna asks as if it is the most ludicrous idea ever. "How could I possibly hate you for anything, you spent thirteen years alone because a few trolls said it would keep me safe."

"I thought you resented that." I blurt out, I thought Anna viewed my thirteen year long silence as selfish.

"I could never resent you, It confused me as a child, but now I understand that you were incredible and strong in your silence." Anna explains with her head resting on my shoulder. "And if you can do that for thirteen years I know that you can beat Hans."

I have to tell her. Anna deserves to know that her mother is alive, she needs to know. I need her to know. So why can I not open my mouth. It as if it is glued shut by Anna's words. I know she will not love me when the truth comes out. When Anna knows how spectacularly I have failed she will do far worse than resent me.

"You should get some sleep." I hate that I cannot manage the truth, I wish I could have spoken that instead of the obvious.

"NO." Anna's response is instant, far too loud, and followed up by a whisper. "I don't know if I can be alone." There is a quiet terror in her voice, she knows that she cannot be alone. She would break down, she would fall apart. She was not prepared to see Kristoff bound and bruised. I cannot leave her alone after that. I have had enough panicked and tear filled nights to know that those are not well spent alone.

"Ok. I'll stay here."

"All night?"

"I Promise."

With my promise hanging in the air as a taunt and testament to truths I cannot bring myself to say Anna shifts to place our backs against her headboard and then shimmies in to a somewhat horizontal position while I remain sitting. The wood of the headboard is unyielding and keeps we awake as Anna pretends to be calm and content. I know that she must want to cry, she is scared and worried for Kristoff's life. She has every right to cry.

I pull my knees in close to my chest and stare at the wall opposite me. There is a small window that reveals the rain, which has only grown more torrential as the moon rose higher. I need a plan; I need a way for Kristoff to not be on Hans's ship anymore.

Hans is not open to bargains, he wants what he wants and he will carry out every threat he can think of. I have nothing over him. I have nothing he wants; at least I hope I do not have the one thing he still asks of me. I nearly let my eyes slip down to my stomach, I catch myself and look to the ceiling instead. Flying away would be nice, being able to shed my skin and fly away carried by the wind and snow.

Anna's sob breaks the silence. My eyes fly to her face and I see tears leaking from her eyes. Her teeth are clenched and her jaw taut as she fails to keep the sobs in inside. I feel lost and empty not knowing what to say too her. My fingers find her hair as she lets out another sob that is simply too big to keep within her. I let my fingers run through her hair, dancing across her scalp in an effort to be soothing.

Anna does not flinch against my icy fingers, quite the opposite in face, she moves in to them. I wish I could say something to make it hurt less. If there was a way to give Anna the perfect life she deserves I would do it in a heartbeat.

We rest without words as Anna continues to lose the battle against her tears. I can feel the gentle "shhhh" and the encouragement trying to form in my throat, but ultimately nothing can work its way to my lips.

With time the sobs fade in to sleep. I could stop stroking Anna's head, I know that I probably should, but I do not. It is all I can do for her now, all I have is the ability to run my fingers through her hair while her fiancé is held prisoner. The expression on her sleeping face is much less tense than the way her features set as she cried. Right now she looks calm, though not entirely so, a shadow of her earlier panic and rage is apparent in the arch or her eyebrow.

The silence of before has once again settled in to the air, though now there is only me left to break it. "Anna." I whisper, not wanting Anna to wake up, but knowing that I need to speak. "I'm sorry. I have been awful. I kept a big secret, a secret even bigger than my powers." I pause for a moment, daring myself to speak the words, to say them out loud. "Mother is still alive." Anna does not stir. "And father is dead because of me." I do not know whether or not to feel relieved. Had she woken up at that moment I would no longer have the weight of the secret dragging me to the bottom of what feels like an ocean, but then Anna would have to bear the weight of that knowledge. Am I am monster to want to share the weight of our mothers life? Is it right of me to want forgiveness from Anna for the death of our father?

"I love you Anna, and even though I know I don't deserve your love I hope that you can find it in yourself to love me." My voice breaks and I worry that I may cry. "I have doneterrible things, and had terrible things done to me. I just want you to be happy, and I'm worried that I won't even be able to give you that." I want to say more, I know that I need to say more, but my mouth decides that it is done being reasonable and stays firmly shut.

Sleep spars with me for several hours, but I refuse to give in to it and continue to watch Anna for the reminder of the night, keeping my promise and reaffirming that I can do at least one thing right. The rain does not ease and the drumming is useful in blocking out unpleasant thoughts. Several bolts of lightning spark in the window, coating the dim room in bright blue light for no more than a second.

I start to worry that the sun will never rise, and then I hope it does not. A world where only the moon sits in the sky may not be as bad as the eternal night sounds. With the moon forever watching over me I could almost feel safe. The world would forever be cloaked in a half-light, a pool of silver designed to bring the mountains to life in a way no one can understand.

With time the sun does start to rise, and I resent it for doing so. It does not matter much through, for the rain is still furious and the clouds are still thick. Anna flips over, her face pressed against my side. Her breath is warm, not quite hot, simply warm.

I hope she dared to have good dreams, I want for her to know that feeling happy is not impossible. She should know that she can win, that the world will have dark moments and kind moments.

Breakfast is still several hours away; I will not wake Anna up for it. If she insists on coming then there is nothing I can do, but if she is asleep I well let her remain so instead of forcing her to attend the most painful breakfast of her life.

Anna starts to murmur worried sounds, I resume stroking her hair in an effort to calm her down. She continues her mumbling. "It's ok." I explain to her, in spite of the fact that she cannot hear me. "I promise, everything will be ok. I am not ever going to let Hans touch you again." I am speaking for my own benefit again, but at least my nonsense has sent Anna deeper in to her sleep. "I promise you will be ok."

Anna wraps her arms around my middle and pulls tight, bringing me in to a sleep fueled hug. I try to ignore the welling in my chest. I force myself to not look at Anna's, now, completely calm face. The rain is once again a welcome distraction. Were it not for the pounding of fat rain drops the silence of the night would have driven me to cry. It will do no good for Anna to see me cry, I need to be strong for her.

She stirs slowly, coming back to the world with hesitation and unwillingness. Given the choice I would have fought to keep a hold on sleep too. Anna yawns and then the battle is over, her eyes open and she opens her mouth to speak and then closes is without a word. She waits for several minutes, not moving her arms from my waist. I suppose she decides on what to say because she opens her mouth again.

"Thank you for still being here."

"We're sisters, we stick together."

"Yes we do." Anna closes her eyes again, and recedes under the covers. I take; once again, to stroking her hair, knowing that, for now, her breath on my side and her hair against my fingers are the only things keeping me going.

I decide that, in spite of Hanses firm threats, I will not be attending breakfast. Hans will get angry, but I can manage, I have managed just fine for quite a few months now. I will be at lunch, I can sit through lunch. By lunch Anna will be able to face the world and I will stand beside her. We will sit in the dining hall and ignore Hanses fiercest glare knowing that we have an ally in each other.

* * *

**Not to sure how I feel about this chapter, it had some good moments, but also a few I'm not so sure about. Let me know with a review, perhaps we can reach 90 of them this chapter, that would be so awesome. **

**I'll have a new chapter up for you on the 17th. **

**-Whovian123**

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Yes, Anna was a bit to distraught and exhausted this chapter to demand to many answers, but in the next few chapters everything is going to start being revealed/falling apart.  
**

**Yulissa: Thank you. Sorry the wait is long, I do my best and try to follow the deadlines I give myself. **

**Guest: WHHHHHHAAAATTT?**

**Guest: Thank you very much, I hope you had a good holiday. **


	33. Chapter 33

**Hi, this chapter is one a lot of you have been waiting on. I hope it satisfies you (though i know it won't).  
**

**Remember, tell your friends, post links, and gossip about this fanfic, as long as you do not claim credit to it you can spread the word however you like. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

Lunch is difficult, Hans shoots an impressive arsenal of glares my, and Anna's, way when no one is looking. We ignore him, knowing that he will not be able to exact any manner of revenge upon us whilst we are in the company of so many other royals. The safety net of our many guests may be removed too soon as the winter in coming closer to an end than I like, with only a month at most left until the shipping lanes are clear enough to allow for proper travel. Arendelle has fierce winters that are longer than most other places, but they must come to an end as all things do.

I chance a sly glance at Kasper and find that he is doing the same. Our eyes meet, blue against blue, and hold for several seconds. He has questions, of course he does; everyone has a thousand things they want to ask me, a thousand things they think I have the answer to. I cannot answer my own questions; much less those that everyone wants to ask.

I strain my ears and imagine that I can hear the rain. The constant and frightening downpour that refuses to stop still rings in my ears. Rain makes sense, in my world that no longer makes sense rain holds the certainty of barrelling toward the ground. I need the rain.

My plate sits in front of me, brimming with all manner of excellent food I cannot bring myself to eat. My stomach rebels against the idea of food. The sweet smells of the roast causing an angry rumble that almost sends me running. I feel nauseated; I have felt so since Ana decided she could no longer hide away in her bed.

It must be the anxiety, the anxiety of going to lunch, and the anxiety of missing breakfast, and the fear for Kristoff and my mother. It has to be anxiety, or bad food, or the flu, anything other than what I worry it might be. I am going to need an answer; I need to know the truth about the suspicious bloating that has not gone away.

My palms are sweaty and my head starts to spin. I can feel the wave of panic crashing through my mind, and cross my body. I need to be outside; I need to get away from the heat of the room and the pointless conversations around me. Hanses presence keeps me in my chair, I want to run, but I know that I

So I wait, I stare at my food and the glass of wine sitting in front of me, not daring to touch either of them. I can wait out the guests, whom I am sure will lose interest in lunch soon enough. They will return to the town and continue their day. I am less sure about Hans, he will pose a challenge, but I need an answer and he cannot know. I will find a way around him. Anna cannot know either; I do not want to imagine how she would react, or the names she would call me.

I feel the frost building in my fingers. My powers will not rest, and I have to fight to keep them at bay. There are still far too many minutes left to sit through before I can run off on my own and find out the truth. Who will be able to tell me? Any doctor is out of the question; Hans must have eyes all over the city. He would not be so foolish as to assume I will not wander.

Waiting for the physical evidence is not an option; it would take far too long and be far too late to think about how to deal with it. The trolls may offer help. They must have the power to detect such things; if they could fix Anna's head those thirteen years ago then they must have a way of helping me.

Lunch has begun to draw to a close as several guests leave the room followed by several more. Hans does not hang back as I had worried. For whatever reason, he has decided that he has better to do than to punish Anna and me for not making an appearance at breakfast.

I leave my plate, still waiting expectant and full, and search for the quickest way out of the castle. If I am to leave now I may still not make it back in time for dinner, and if I am to miss two meals in one day Hans will surely decide that I have overdrawn his kindness.

The rain still persists and I find that I become soaked to the core rather quick, though I am able to ignore it. Locating the stables is easy; it is finding a horse that does not shelter itself from me that poses the challenge. Sven becomes the only option when he waits at his gate, eager for both, and explanation as to why Kristoff did not bring him any carrots today, and as to why I have decided that I want to visit the stables when I have shown no prior interest.

"I know." I coo to the eager, albeit confused, reindeer. "Kristoff's going to be away for a while, but he'll be back. I promise." Sven seems to understand the words I am saying, his eyes bright and alive as I explain what I need him to do. "I have to get to the trolls. You know where they are? Right?"

Sven nods and in my mind I can hear Kristoff miming along, giving Sven the voice he should have had.

"Thank you." I climb on to his back, forgoing a saddle, and waste no time venturing out in to the rain, desperate to make it there and back without my absence being noticed. Sven knows where to go, the route he takes feels instinctive, as if he could navigate every turn, fallen log, or great boulder, with his eyes closed.

I try not to think. Even if the trolls cannot give me the answers I need they will know of my suspicions. I trust them, but it unnerves me to think that other people will know what I have had happen to me. I have to ignore it, even if they know and gossip among themselves I still need to know. It's not as if they are a doctor in town that can go home and gossip to his wife, who in turn gossips to her friends, and so on and so on, until I have hoards of citizens knocking at my door with congratulations that cut deeper than a sword ever could.

Sven leaps over a log and I nearly slip from his back. I tighten my grip in his slick, rain splattered fur and pull myself back in to position. I need to focus. Sven knows what he is doing, but he cannot keep me on his back if I do not make an effort to remain so.

My eyes squeeze shut and pull myself closer to Sven, I do not want to think about the answer I will receive. If it is a negative Hans will eventually try again, and I do not know how I could force myself to handle that again. If it is a positive then I cannot think about what I will have to do, I do not know how I could do it, how I could ever love it. I do not know what to wish for.

We cannot get to the trolls fast enough, yet if I ever reach them it will be far too soon. I do not want my answer, but I cannot go on without one.

Sven's pace begins to slow and I know that we are getting closer. There are geysers littering the path around me, and I can feel the steam hanging in the air. It is warm which only mounts on my rising panic and terror.

We enter a clearing and the trolls are dotted around the landscape. I set my jaw and pat Sven's head as he comes to a stop. I dismount and announce myself.

"Please, I need your help." My voice echoes around me and I feel so incredibly small.

The balled up trolls around me begin to uncurl one by one, straightening up as much as their small frames will allow. I am met by bright curious eyes that stare unblinking at Sven and me.

"Queen Elsa, what do you need?" One of the trolls approaches me her arms out in welcome.

I search for the words, not knowing how to ask what I must. "Is Grand Pabbie here?"

"Yes, he is with the council at the hot spring. Would you like to see him?"

I nod, not trusting myself to keep a steady voice. The troll reaches for my hand but does not insist when I refuse to take it. Looking back I can see that Sven is rolling about with the many younger trolls. My feet take me forward, and I focus of the troll leading me, I cannot make eye contact with any others.

She does not attempt conversation, she must have sensed the stress in my voice, the terror that something is happening to me over which I have no control. We pass several geysers, all of which leak a heat that rests uncomfortably in my lungs. I can see, through the steam, the outline of several trolls in a spring. It must be Grand Pabbie and the council.

I pass through the cloak of steam, as directed by my guide, and reveal myself to the gathering. Pabbie turns to me with wide eyes. "Queen Elsa, what has happened?" I do not question how he knows something is amiss, my face must tell everything.

"Nothing." My default response slips out before I can stop it and I quickly amend myself. "Actually, I have something I need an answer too… It's…" I wrestle with the words, not knowing how to approach my request, or even if I am in the right place for an answer.

"Would it be easier to say in private?" Pabbie asks.

I nod.

Pabbie dismisses the council. "Dear, this way." He gestures past the spring and to a mossy alcove. I walk several paces behind Pabbie, entertaining the idea that I should run away. I could do it, but I need an answer, I won't be able to go on with this hanging over my head.

I follow Pabbie through a wall of vine to find myself in what must serve as his house. There is not much in the way of décor as trolls have never had a need for paintings or fine carpets, choosing instead to use the things growing around them as features in their space. My shoes meet a thick and stringy layer of moss. The cool damp air seeps in to my skin, serving to settle my nerves ever so slightly.

"What do you need your majesty." Pabbie asks, his voice grave, as if he can feel the gravity of the situation and all it may entail.

"I… Do you have magic that can detect things?"

"Yes. The efficiency depends on what needs detecting."

"It's a condition or sorts."

"Your Majesty?" Grand Pabbie is confused, I need to find the courage to say the word I have not dared to even think.

"I fear… I may be pregnant."

Pabbie looks taken aback. "That's wonderful your majesty. Pardon my intrusion, but why could you not simply take up your enquiry with a trained doctor in your city?"

"I… would rather not explain. It's rather complicated and I need to be sure before I… move forward." I try to find the subtlest way to explain that I do not want to give the traumatic details surrounding my suspicion.

"Of course your majesty, it is not my place to pry. We will need to be at a geyser if I am to detect a child. The steam pours with magic." Pabbie leaves the alcove and I follow with steps so unsure I feel as if I am going to fall over.

The trolls have dispersed and do not follow us as we move further form the group. A hulking geyser rests in the ground. We move towards it and I can smell a sharp unpleasant odor similar to bad eggs.

Pabbie stands before the mound of earth, and rock, with his hands outstretched, feeling the horrid warmth. I wait several steps behind him, knowing that I have to face this. My body decides that it cannot wait a single moment more and I lurch forward in to the column of steam around the geyser. I flinch away from the heat, but I do not move, I stand my ground with what little pride I still have.

"Breathe deeply." Grand Pabbie instructs. "You need to be relaxed."

I inhale the foul smell and hot steam. My shoulders still feel tight, but I force the knot to fall away. "What's going to happen?" I am nervous, and scared, so horribly scared. No matter what the answer means bad things for my future.

"Take my hand, and when the geyser erupts you must put your other hand in to the water. It will not harm you and it will not burn, but it shall feel warm and you may experience a tingle running up your arm and along your spine." Pabbie explains. "You do not have to worry about anything else, the magic is simple and I can feel it strongly."

I take Pabbies strong stone hand in mine. His is not warm, but cool, which is a relief as so much around me is warm and I am not sure how much more I can take. "How soon will you know?"

"Immediately."

I take another lungful of painful warmth, knowing that this is it. The geyser is moment away from erupting and I will know. "Thank you for this."

"Anything for you my queen."

There is a beat of silence and then the water erupts from the geyser and in to the air. I thrust my fist in to the bolt of boiling water and am met with gentle warmth. A shudder runs down my arm, just as Grand Pabbie said it would, and continues throughout my body and in to the ground. I can feel the stone fingers around mine tighten.

The eruption ends just as quickly as it begun. I tug my fist back to my body. Pabbie releases my other hand and I do not dare look at him. I cannot ask for the answer, I can only do my best to not violently throw up.

"You are with child." Grand Pabbies voice rings in my ears as the meaning behind his words forces its way in to my soul.

There is a child inside of me. A child is growing inside of me, Hanses child. This is what Hans wants, this is just another way for him to win, and when the child has been birthed I will be killed. I will have fulfilled my final purpose and I will leave behind and broken Anna, a trapped mother, and a screaming babe.

My hands work their way to my stomach, the gentle swell feels far more prominent than it had several hours prior. It holds with it the weight of life, a life which I fear I will not be able to love. How can I love it knowing its origins? How will I be able to live nine months with it, how will I be able to give it strength when I already have so little.

"Your majesty… are you ok?" Pabbies voice breaks through my panic.

"Yes… Yes… I'm fine. Thank you for confirming." I stumble away from Pabbie and the geyser. "I'll be going; I need to be back for dinner. Dinner is important, I can't miss dinner." I really cannot. I have tried Hanses patience too much lately and if I am too miss dinner it will be pushing it too far.

I back up several steps more and feel a furred mass press against my back. Sven reaches his head around to face me, his eyes sad and curious. He must sense that I am panicked. I grasp at his fur, finding purchase in the shaggy surface. Pabbie nods his head in farewell as I clamber on to Sven's back.

We charge through the forest, Sven not faltering in the slightest as I fight to make it back for dinner. I can focus on one problem at a time, no more than that. For this moment dinner is my only concern.

* * *

**Yikes. Well, you guys wanted the answer, and here it is. Elsa's gonna have a baby, and that baby is going to be Hanses. **

**Please leave a review, it can be expressing your hate regarding Elsa's situation if you want, I don't mind, as long as there is review to be read. **

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter, and thank you to everyone that read it. **

**I will have a new chapter up on the 22nd. **

**-Whovian123**

**alvinandbrittany4ever: Hans hasn't done anything this chapter, but he's going to be mad next chapter. **

**Yulissab432: Congrats on the account. I imagine that Elsa is building up the courage to talk to Anna about their mother. **

**Guest: All in due time. The truth has a way of working through lies. **

**Lordhhp: Anna and Elsa do make quite the formidable team. I'm sure Elsa will realize that in order for things to work out the truth can't stay buried, it's more of a matter of how quickly she will realize this. **


	34. Chapter 34

**So Elsa's panicking a teeny bit, she just has to sit through dinner and then well see where the afternoon takes her. I know that the chapter after this has something in it that you guys are all really going to love. A little bit of happy in spite of the terror. **

**-Whovian123**

**Dislaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

I make it back for dinner, but only just. Anna gives me a worried look as I stumble through the doors, my hair drenched with the absurd rain. She must be wondering where I have been, and when she whispers that question to me as I sit down I almost tell her the truth, but a lie forces its way out instead.

She does not believe me, and it hurts me knowing that I could not bring myself to speak the truth. We are sisters, and we are a team, she needs to know where I was. Truth is the only thing we have left. Hans has taken everything else from us.

Kasper tries to catch my gaze, but I refuse to let my eyes settle on him. He is not something I can spare a second thinking of at a moment like this, not with the new responsibilities I know have hanging over my head. I do not know where to go from here. How do I proceed? I cannot let Hans know, I cannot let him have this victory.

Dinner is a feast of marvelous dishes, many of which still spark a flame of nausea in me, but I force down regardless. I do not know nearly enough about children to have one, but I know that no good can come from not eating. My eyes focus in on the glass of wine in front of me, I am desperately thirsty. Kia passes behind my chair and I bother him for a goblet of water. He does not question my request and for that I am grateful.

I sip my water in-between bites of food, desperate to keep everything down and to go largely unnoticed by the crowded table. I just need to eat, I need to eat and get out of here. I need to get out of here; I need to be somewhere where no one will hear me cry. It is all too much, I am overwhelmed and terrified.

My mother is fantastic; she made me feel safe even when I knew I was not. She made me feel human when the more monstrous parts of my personality tried to break free. I will never he as great as her, if I ever get the chance to mother the heir I am growing, my child. I know I will not be able to do it right. I will be far too scared of losing control. Such a small helpless babe would not survive the ice I am capable of, and if I am to pass on my powers then I would not face the world, knowing that I have condemned a child to endure what I have gone through.

"What has it been now? Two months? Three?" I look up to find that I am being asked a question.

Hans answers for me. "Yes, a little longer than two, almost three, and happy as ever. I am sorry the winter started so soon after. I do hope you will be able to make it back to your children soon, they must miss you."

An older woman from a nation I cannot name is asking Hans and me about our post wedding bliss. I am rather glad I did not have to answer for myself, the truth has been rather uncontrollable and may have slipped out.

"Oh, my children are all grown and married off. I am expecting the grandchildren to start coming along soon." The older woman explains. "What about you two? A young happy couple, planning on the pitter-patter of princely feet in nine months?"

If it were not for the horrors of such events unfolding before me I would have laughed, the coincidence of it all is astounding, so startling that my silence continues and Hans is the one to answer.

He chuckles and I wish I could punch him. "Well, I'm not sure how appropriate this talk is for the dinner table, but there has been no shortage of trying." Hans mixes just the right amount of lighthearted laugher with subtle sincerity, and then tops off the performance with a wink.

"Well, sometimes is can take a few months. My son has been married for nearly a year and I am still waiting on the good news. Don't be discouraged." I want to scream at this woman, explain to her that this is anything but what she imagines it to be. We are not trying for an heir, Hans is demanding one.

"It's not going to be the end of the world if it takes a few more months." Hanses threat is clear; it will be the end of the world if it takes much longer. It will be the end of everything for me. I am running out of time to find a way out. Hanses plan is folding out, in less than nine months he will have the son he has longed for and I will have a child I am afraid of.

I force myself to offer the old woman a kind smile. Appearances, I need to keep up appearances. When I have retired to my room and the rain drowns out all sound I can let the sobs break free, the terror fueled roars that have been building in my chest since Grand Pabbie confirmed my suspicion.

Screaming would not go over well at the dinner table, for the queen to break out in to body shaking sobs would be deemed quite unseemly. I have to wait, my quaking hands hidden under the table where no one will be able to notice then and then, in turn, pick up on how not ok I am.

I hide my face behind my goblet of water, the cool liquid forcing its way past the lump in my throat, the lump that refuses to go away. Lumps and bumps are causing me a whole world of trouble. Trouble and a frightening feeling in the farthest corners of my chest, a feeling far from hate, nearly the opposite. I know I could not love Hans's son, but could I hate my own?

I am worried that I will hate it, and worried that I will not. Children frighten me, and the thought of children that are mine invokes even more fear. I worry that I could not be as great as my mother. I worry that I would fail in the most spectacular fashion possible.

The scraping of chairs against the floor sounds out in to the hall as guests decide to retire for the evening. I follow suit and push my chair back only to find that Hanses hand is on my wrist before I can take a solitary step in any direction. "Sweetie, you mustn't go running off in between meals, especially after you have missed breakfast."

Hans keeps his voice low as he guides me through the maze of halls and in to what must be his room. It is an all too familiar room, a room that sends my stomach falling through the floor and forces my breath to come in panicked bursts. The only other time I have had the misfortune of laying eyes upon these walls was when I had to look my fathers severed head in the eyes, and when Hans decided that my body was his to do with as he pleased.

I wrench my hand way from Hanses grip, expecting his fingers to release and for my arm to slid out and in to freedom. It does not. My arm remains firmly clasped in his spindly fingers that keep me rooted to the spot. "What are you going to do?" I want to sound stronger, I want my voice to scare Hans, but instead I can see him shake his head in a hearty chuckle.

"Why were you not at breakfast?"

"It's not important. I missed it, that's all there is too it. Why I missed it is my business and my business alone."

"Honey, everything you do comes back to me now. I have eyes everywhere."

"I was visiting old friends."

"I know you don't have any friends, old or new. No one wants to hang around with you, no one gets excited when they see that the _freak_ with ice powers dropped by-."

"I AM NOT A FREAK." I shout it, knowing that it is not wise to interrupt Hans. "I may be different, but I am not a freak, and you best remember that I could kill you right now right here."

"I know you wouldn't, you're weak. Even if you tried to I have guards everywhere, they would get to your mother and have slit her throat before you could turn around, not that it matters, you're just as spineless and pathetic as your father was." Hans snarls as he takes massive threatening steps toward me. "He cried like a child, he was so weak. When I told him about your coronation he wept." Hans has his hand around my wrist again.

"Stop." I cannot continue to hear Han's talk. "Please, stop."

"Then tell me where you were after lunch and why you skipped breakfast." Hans pulls my arm and brings me up against him. I look him in the eyes, I know me means to intimidate me, but I will not avoid his gaze.

"I was occupied. It's not important." I fight to pull my arm out of his grasp, fight to get away from him. He is too close, far too close. The last time he was this close to me he tried to revisit our wedding night.

"Fine, if it is so 'unimportant' then how about we move on to the next matter at hand; you are still far too thin."

My heart is going to explode, I am sure of it. Why does this have to be a problem now, why does he have to bring this up now? I cannot lie and pretend now, my mind is not clear enough for it. I cannot feign ignorance or innocence. He will be able to tell, I am sure he can already tell, that my pulse has sped up and that I look far more pale than I ever have.

"I'm sorry, it's not my fault." I stammer though excuses, looking for a way out. I would dive through the window if I was confident I would get my feet out before Hans could catch them. He is too fast. I am too slow.

"I think you'll find that it is your fault. I am not the problem, it is you. Can you not bear children? Do you fail in that way too? Can you not do what a woman must do?" The accusations keep flying at me, each burning more than the last. They sting with irony, a bitter and unforgiving irony that whispers in my ear of how pitiful I am. "Do you need me to try again?" Hans asks, with no intent of listening to my answer.

I supply one anyway. "No. No, please no. It will be fine, just give it time. All I need is time. You'll get your son." I fight with the grip on my hand again before surrendering and looking up to Hanses eyes. "I promise."

"Your promise does not hold as much weight as you think honey." Hans brings his free hand to my face. His hot fingers tug at the hair that has fallen on to my face as my struggle against his grasp increased in desperation. I try to jerk my head away, but his hand wraps around the back of it, forgetting my hair in favor of keeping me from running.

"I-I can't, I can't do that." My hand starts to shake in Hanses grip, my panic rising as his fingers curl in to my hair. "Please, I can't."

"It doesn't matter if you can. It doesn't even matter if you want to. This has never been about you." Hans moves his hand from the back of my head to my neck, and then along my back until it comes to a rest against my lower back. He forces my body closer and closer to him, pressing his chest to mine. I try to duck my head away from his gaze, but he jerks my arm and forces me to look at his eyes. "This is about me, and the son you won't let me have. I just want to be a father, I just want my legacy. Do I not deserve that? Is that not my right?"

"Hans, no. Please, this is not ok. I can't do this, not again."

He moves his hand from my waist to the back of my head in a flash, his fingers wound in my hair, tugging and pulling. "It doesn't matter, don't you understand? You serve as a whore. A way of getting what I need." His voice is low and aggressive. "You're eyes, the panic in them, I never imagined anything could look so… _alluring_."

I can see Hanses breath. Why can I see Hanses breath? Is the room that cold? Is my control so far gone that I do not even realize that my powers have slipped from a safe place and taken on a life of their own, a life which will only serve to agitate Hans more so than he is now.

Hans lets go of my wrist, deciding that his grip of my hair will be enough to keep me in check. His hand goes to my chest where he plays with my scar. "This was fun to. Shall we have another go at that?" He decides that branding is not worth revisiting, instead his fingers move to my shoulders. The fabric of my dress falls down my arms as Hans pushes it from my body.

I struggle, and Hans, in turn, laughs. His arrogance is sickening. The idea of me resisting him is no more than a joke, a thing which makes him smile and chuckle.

"No." my voice slips forth unauthorized and desperate to make Hans stop.

"No?" Hans patronizes me. "No is not an option, have we not established this? You are my wife and I am allowed to use your body for whatever needs I have. You will have sex with me; I do not care what you have to say about it." With his words still ringing though the air his hand grips tighter on to my hair. His other hand forces its way in to the top of my dress, groping wildly at my chest.

I break.

The ceiling opens up with a blizzard and I feel bolts of ice and snow tearing from my hands. Hans is flung across the room by either wind or snow, maybe both. I do not care. My feet do not pause to find out. I am in the hallway before I can think, and past the guards standing watch outside the door before they can chase me down.

They will run in to check on Hans, and they will find him still alive, and with that knowledge they will not kill my mother, Kristoff, Anna, or I. He is still alive and I am still carrying his son. He does not know though, I have that one minuscule thing of which to hold over him. He has all but one card, and while my card is not the best it is enough to keep me in the game.

I can run for now. For several minutes, or maybe an hour, I will be able to cry alone, not in my room of course, but somewhere. In some empty tower I will be able to cry. I will be able to feel the feeling I have been hiding from all afternoon. I will be able to cry over the child I am being forced to have. The child that has done me no wrong, but I still worry I will not be able to love.

* * *

**Yikes. I promise it will only get a little bit worse before it gets better, I am pretty sure it does get better. Not to spoil anything, but I'm not sure if i could actually make things worse for Elsa. **

**I will have another chapter up on the 27th. Until then feel free to review the chapter, or message me, or whatever you feel like.**

**But if we can manage to break 100 reviews I would be insanely happy. That is a milestone i did not anticipate getting close to and this is mind-blowing being so close. **

**Speaking of reviews. **

**Yulissab432: Thank you. I'm not sure Elsa is going to be making large announcements just yet. She can hardly admit the truth to herself.  
**

**Loridhlp: Thank you very much. Oh yup. Elsa would rather sit though shouting or bouts of hitting than accept what Pabbie told her, but the truth is the truth. **

**S1L3NT420STRYDER: Nope, perhaps though different folklore, but in the cannon of the story it would be but a simple human.  
**

**bexmad: Thank you. I know, I wish I could be writing a happy celebration. Thinks will probably start to look up in a few chapters though (maybe). **

**Aggregate Dragon: thank...YOU! I'm not too sure how Anna will take this, but not well is a pretty good guess. **


	35. Chapter 35

**Hello, big chapter here, I've been waiting to write this for a while, not to sure how I actually did, but it could be worse. **

**I am going back and editing quite a few of the first chapters, it is not overly important, but I thought it was worth mentioning. I want to improve the writing and ensure that it matches up more with the way I am writing chapters now. **

**Also, I will be fixing up and explaining a rather crucial oversight about Hanses men infiltrating the castle guards and the lack of question from the Arendelle loyal servants of the castle. Thank you EladamriCorell for bringing this to my attention and for having the grace to do so in a respectful way (I am incredibly frightened of flames).  
**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

My feet slap against the ground. They send echoes all throughout the empty hallways I find myself bolting down. I need to find somewhere that I can scream, somewhere no one will accidentally happen upon me. Somewhere where I can fall to the ground and stop pretending. Every second of my day is a game; it is a game with stakes far higher than I can manage. Hans can lose nothing, and I stand to lose all manner of family I still have.

My chest hurts as my breathing becomes all the more rapid. I stumble and recover, then again. My body is no longer my own, Hans has captured it over the many months of threats. I shut my eyes and pray that I do not run in to a wall. I cannot look ahead, there is nothing ahead. There is only then next nine months and then I die.

I open my eyes. I have to look forward, that is what it comes down too, I have no choice. Backwards is not an option. I cannot roll time backwards. I have to run as fast as I can onward and onward, ignoring the doom in my future. So I do. I bolt around corner and race past the library. The library is not safe, it is far too predictable, far too comforting. He would look there.

Stairs, do not know where I am going, but up feels right. Up is the only feasible progress I can make now. The castle has many towers; most of them have not seen people in decades. There is too much space to live in, but that does give many places to hide.

I progress further and further up, my legs protesting with burning aches and pains, I ignore them. My fists clench and I force myself to ignore everything. I will ignore the pain, the terror, and the knowledge that had I not lost control of my powers Hans would not have stopped. The winter still brims in my fingers and my chest. I have to control it.

I chance a glance back to ensure that I am not leaving a trail of ice. If I leave a line of frosty footprints on the ground them my running will be redundant. There is nothing but polished marble on the ground. The winter within lessens as I let out a breath. At least I have not lost all sense of control. It is a vague victory, but one I shall accept nonetheless.

My stomach turns and in the next instance I am leaving what little I could force myself to eat on the floor. I curl my hands in to tight frustrated fists and slam them in too the wall above my head. The flagstone on my skin is biting and wonderful, a reminder that I can feel, that I am still real. A scream tumbles from my throat and launches in to the air. Then, when my stomach is empty of bile and sound, I sink to the ground and let the silent sobs start.

I want to die here. I do not want to die on a birthing bed seconds after bringing a son in to the world. I do not want to leave a child alone in the world. For all the fear I have regarding my ability to love it I know that it is far worse to go without parents. I do not want to be forced to leave my son alone with a sociopathic father.

Anna would do what she could to help. I know that Anna would not leave my son alone, but what could she do? Hans would not allow for visits and chats. Hans would not stand for rocking a babe to sleep and waiting by its side all night. Hans could not love it. Hans is not capable of loving anything but power. He craves it in a dangerous and destructive way, a single minded way that has not allowed him to see the true ruin and terror around him.

The air around me is dry. I can feel the dust on the ground. I am not sure where I am, but I am confident that Hanses guards will not chance a look here, it is far too out-of-the-way and they have other places to check before they get desperate.

I sit up, supporting myself with my arms. What have I done? I have disobeyed Hans before, but it is different this time. I am going to have to face him and when I do it will not be fun. I could tell him the truth; I could let him know that his son is closer than he originally thought. He might even be happy, but I would be assaulted with doctors and made to stay in my room throughout all hours of the day. Hans would not risk me harming his son. Even if I was allowed to roam the castle Hans would no longer have use for my mother, he has done all that he needs to do with her, he has secured my throne and his son. He would kill her.

There is no way out, not the kind I am looking for. I want a simple quick way out, a way without violence and death. Hans would have to die. He will not stop, he will not give up. He would have to die to give me a chance at a family. I cannot kill him though; I cannot take a life, not matter what evil he has brought to me I cannot kill. I will not don such power as to decide who lives and who dies. I may be a queen, but all death sentences are carefully considered by a council of justice and me. I merely swing the sword. Thankfully Arendelle has a low crime rate with most infractions being limited to petty theft.

The wall is hard and reassuring. I press my back to it, using it as an anchor, a reminder that I am still alive and that for these few seconds I am safe. Safe, it is strange feeling to be secure in my surroundings. It is confusing to feel as if I can breathe, as if I can cry. I do not have to play pretend, not in these minutes, these minutes are my own to do with as I please.

I do cry. It is all I can think to do. Being strong will not help me here. I have not the cavalry for overthrowing Hans. My guards are no longer mine, they are his. I can cry though, and in doing that I can regain control over one small thing, because if I let myself cry, permit myself to cry, it is my choice. It is a weak choice, a choice of surrender, but I choice I can make nonetheless, and follow-through is easy.

They sting, the tears burn, not as strongly as they have, but they still do burn. At least the burn of a tear does not leave a horrid scar. No one will see the after effects of my sobs. All evidence will fall away as I sleep. By breakfast tomorrow I will look as I always do; poised and calm. I wish I could be calm, I wish I could not panic. I long for days of simple problems, problems that made sense and came bundled up with answers.

I long for the days when I had not yet injured Anna, back when life was simple and I had an unshakable family, a family that stood together as one and would not bow down at any force on earth. We leaned on each other as trees weave roots together for strength, we held each other up and when one of us fell the rest followed suit.

My son will not have this. He will not be given a support system so great that he feels safe thought all moments of the day. He will grow up scared and alone, surrounded by aloof relatives, such as Anna, and a frightening, quick to anger, father.

"Elsa?"

I almost scream. I had not noticed anyone approaching, and am in no state to be seen by anyone. My head snaps up and my heart jumps in to my throat. There is a white blob in front of me, why does a white blob know my name?

"Olaf?"

"Elsa, what's wrong? Why are you crying? I know its rainy outside but don't be sad, it can't rain forever; it couldn't if it tried."

"It's nothing Olaf." Why is he here, how did he find me?

"Elsa, no one cries unless something bad happened? What happened? Should I get help? Do you need help?" A thousand questions come from him all at once, none of which I am collected enough to answer. Instead I just shake my head; I try to make him see that I am fine. I will be fine. I have to be fine. I will find some way to crawl out of this hole eventually.

"I'm going to get help. You need someone."

Olaf is right, of course he is. He is sensible, vaguely naïve, but always level-headed. He has no bias and he has no filter. I watch, powerless to stop him, as he sprints off along the hallway, calling out for help. Help that I know I need, but do not know how to accept.

No one in this godforsaken castle is going to know how to help me, or even that I need help. Far too many people are still under the impression that I married by choice, that I love my husband, and that he would never do a thing to hurt me. Far too many people are oblivious fools determined to ignore the truth around them. I want to shout at them, I want to yell and scream. I want to blame everyone for not paying mind to the signs, for not speaking up about the obvious scar on my chest, or the bruised cheek and darkened fingerprints across my neck.

My mother is perfect; she loved me when she should not have. She forgave me for every frozen clock, and every snowy rug, she understood that which she should not have been able to. I looked up to my parents; I still look up to them, their strength in spending three years as captives. I could never give a child something to be proud of. I would not know the right times to take them in to my arms and promise them the world. I could never be my mother. My mother is a mother through and through, she excelled in the most nurturing way. I could never be my mother.

"Elsa!" My name is followed by quick footfalls. I recognize the voice; the voice of my sister is not one I could ever forget. "Elsa? Olaf found me, he said you needed help." I can feel Anna beside me; she has forgone her feet and taken to her knees. I can see only her chest and the ends of her braids. I dare not meet her eyes. Her eyes will have questions, questions coupled with too much evidence to ignore. She is whispering in a soothing tone, the words are too fast for me to hear, but her voice is enough to latch on too. She represents sanity, I feel so far from sane that to know Anna can still think is enough to make me feel a little safer.

Her hand wraps around mine. Her fingers hold tight, tighter than Hanses ever have, but they are not cruel. She is desperate, desperate for me to look up, desperate for me to give her an answer, desperate for anything and everything. "Elsa, please, I need to know what's wrong. I want to help, I really do, I just don't understand. I need to understand." There are tears siting at the edge of her words. I call feel her falling apart, just like me. We are both broken.

I do not say anything.

Anna surrenders to the wall, just as I have done. She does not cry as I do, she is better than that, but she does not attempt to speak either. She lets my sobs echo; she lets the sound bounce along the walls.

I want to tell her, I want her to know that she will be an aunt, that I will have to leave her with my child and that she will not understand why. I want to ask her if she will love him for me. I need to know that someone will love the child that I cannot. I want to ask her that she keeps him safe from Hans, that she keep him pure and safe from his father. That he does not forget my name.

"Anna." My voice is hoarse, and my chest still wrestles with sobs, but the word works its way out. "Can you promise me something?"

"Of course, anything." Anna binds herself to things she does not know, vows to follow through with dangerous things.

"If…" I struggle with how to explain what I need her to do without telling her far too much. "Family, family before anything right?" I need to remind myself that families are strong, that families can be safe.

"Family forever." Anna promises.

I squeeze her hand.

I want to tell her how much she means to me, how much what she says means to me. She deserves to know how lost I would be without her, but all I can do is squeeze her hand. All I can do is offer a light pressure which keeps me falling away forever.

Anna squeezes back.

I have to let her know. I have to give her at least one secret. I owe her that.

I move my hand, and by extension Anna's as well. I take her hand, first to my forehead, where it rests as I gulp at the air and steel myself. Then I bring it to that swell, that bump, that godforsaken lump. I do not have the words to give Anna the truth. I do not have the actions, all I have is a slight distension, but it cannot be mistaken. There is a truth hidden in it, one not yet ready to be truly visible, but still a truth nonetheless.

Anna is confused at first. She nearly pulls her hand away, but then she feels it. The backs of her fingers register that not all is right. I let her hand fall from mine. I let the tips of her fingers glide along my stomach.

She does not speak, and I would not ask that of her. I am afraid of what she will say. There are names, awful names, that she could call me, names that I worry she will shout.

I wait. My voice too horse to speak and my chest still burns. I let Anna understand, I let her realize what this is, and what this means. I worry as I wait.

"Elsa." My name comes out as no more than the slightest of whispers, as if it was only thought with an open mouth. "Oh my goodness." I can hear Anna struggling for words, struggling to know how to feel. "Is it his? Is it Hanses?"

All I can do is nod.

"Elsa." Anna repeats my name, this time so very sadly.

She does not move her hand, it stays against my stomach. Her fingers are still, they do not need to reaffirm what they suspect, for I have finally wrought the truth from my tongue. We let the silence say what we cannot. We let the silence tell of the trouble to come.

"What do I do?" I beg of Anna to have an answer. I need her to have the solution. I need her to be better than me, and wiser than me.

"I don't know." We are both lost. We are both confused and scared. We are both at the mercy of Hans and his wishes that always come true, and it is my fault.

Anna takes my hand in hers again. Her fingers hold tight to mine. Her message is clear, we are in this together, and no matter how awful the mess we will always be in it together. She needs me to know that I should never let her find me crying in a hallway ever again; she should not have to happen upon me. I should have been by her side the entire time. She is kind, far kinder than I could be, and she is forgiving. She is dedicated to me and I cannot understand why. I suppose it is family.

* * *

**There we go, Anna knows. give it a few slower character driven chapters and then we rush through too the end. Gosh it's scary being close to the end. This will be the first story I have managed to see all the way through too the end.) **

**Please leave a review letting me know what you thought, positive or negative I listen to what you have too say.**

**EDIT: Next chapter will be up on the 1st (sorry I forgot that). **

**-Whovian123**

**magiclover13: Thank you, believe me Elsa will have her moment when Hans runs scared... eventually. **

**Elsa1254: Thank you. Anna finding out parts of the truth, check! The sisters getting their mother back, less check but give it time.**

**Frostbite: Thank you. Hans isn't the best person, but karma has a way of creeping up and getting revenge. **

**Aggregate Dragon: Thank you. I guess Anna did sorta figure it out, Elsa never really said anything.**

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Elsa wont have to put up with this much longer, one way or another the end is coming... soon ish. **

**bexmad: Thank you. Yup, Hans is gonna be angry, but now the sisters are stronger than ever.  
**

**EladamriCorell: Thank you. Your point is valid and I cannot believe I skipped over that. It is inexcusable and I will be working to re-write chapters and integrate the sub plot that I overlooked through overconfidence.  
**


	36. Chapter 36

**Hello guys, I'm back here on the 1st with a new chapter for you. It's not long, but it does have a charming and crucial exchange between Anna and Elsa. I think it's safe to say this power duo will be sticking together as much as possible.  
**

**Get on with the reading and let me know what you think. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own frozen. **

* * *

My back is tight, so are my knees. Why was my body curled tight as I slept? Why am I upright? Is it the wall that is keeping me from falling over? What is the warm weight atop my shoulder? Why is it so comforting?

I pry my raw eyes open; they are eyes that have cried far too freely in the hours before slumber claimed me. Anna, it is Anna's head that rests atop my shoulder. She is asleep and her face is worry free. Her brow is not creased in the slightest. She is calm, but she will not be when she wakes up.

I told her about the bump. I remember how her fingers skated across my stomach, the way her voice broke around the vowels of my name. She will panic when she wakes, for several bliss filled moments she will be calm, and unaware, but then she will remember. She will remember the way we all do after sleeping away the knowledge of awful things.

"What?" Anna murmurs, her nose crinkling and her hand coming up to rub the world back in to her eyes.

"I didn't say anything."

"Oh, I thought you did." With that she decides that the world can wait, worms her way further in to my side, and leaves her head on my shoulder. She leaves her eyes closed and her body relaxed. I wait several moments, letting the night come back to her and waiting for the subsequent shrieks of "_Whore_" and "_Harlot_".

Anna does tense after several moments. I brace myself against the shouting I am sure will come, but am met only with silence. The pressure of Anna's head atop my shoulder lessens as she remembers how to move and decides that she cannot stand the thought of being near me any longer. I let her pull away, I know it do not deserve her, whatever promise she made last night are not promises I will hold her to.

Last night I was scared, and so was Anna. Last night we said what we needed to say to feel strong enough to deal with this, but Anna is not bound to me. She is not bound to my son; she has no obligation to raise him.

"Does he know?" Anna's question confuses me. Why is she not shouting? Why has she not branded me a whore? "Have you told Hans?"

"No. No I haven't. He doesn't know."

"You can't let him find out. He might hurt you." Anna insists.

"He wouldn't, this is what he wants. This is what he has been after from the beginning, this and Arendelle." I explain, trying to ignore the persistent memories of my wedding night. Every time I blink I see his face in front of mine, the smug grin and dark eyes that cast me aside so easily. "He says he needs an heir, a child with claim over the throne. He says that I owe him a son."

"Blasphemy," Anna declares, "you don't owe him anything, you never have. He doesn't deserve anything, not from you, not from anyone else. He has no claim over your body. You must know that."

I nod, of course I know that, but it is harder to remind myself of such things when he has me pinned to a wall and is threatening the lives of my family. When he is determined to either take, a life, or my body, it is easy to surrender the latter secure in the knowledge that the former is safe a while longer.

"Don't tell anyone." I plead.

"Soon enough I won't have to tell people, it will be obvious just by looking." Anna's words gain momentum as she starts to panic. "Are you certain? Completely sure of it?"

"Yes."

"Ok." Anna calms down, knowing that panicking has never solved any of her problems and that it will likely have the same effect on mine. "Elsa, there isn't a way around this."

"I know."

"You're going to have to announce it at some point."

"Not yet, please Anna, not yet. It's not even been three months; anything could happen in the next six." I beg, not knowing quite what I mean. Would I dare harm it, could I fight the urge to protect my son?

"What will happen when Hans finds out?" Anna stands. "What is the absolute worst that can happen?"

I struggle, not knowing myself the very worst things that Hans could do. What would he do? Would he find some reason to be angry, would he justify punches, or burning? Would he kill my mother? Would he decide that he no longer needs hostages because I can no longer disobey him? With his heir on the way there is no longer any way I can destroy his plans. He would no longer need leverage over me.

When I do speak it is only to tell Anna the truth, the absolute worst thing Hans could do. The one thing from which I would never be able to recover from, the one thing which would render me an obeying mess. "He could kill you."

It is simple. With Anna gone I would be too. I could not fail her so grandly and ever speak again. If Hans killed her because of me I would die with her. Anna has always been there. Granted for thirteen years she was there from behind a door, but a door is just a door and it could not hide the soft words she spoke.

"Why would he kill me?" Anna does not sound scared, she is not as scared as she should be.

"Because he needs me to be broken." I worry that I will explain too much. "He uses lives as leverage, and when he knows it will hurt the most he cuts them from this earth."

"Who else does he have?" Anna's face grows far more worried than I have ever seen it. "Who has he killed?" Anna stares down at me. "Who else does he have on that boat?"

Far too much of this is making sense for Anna now. She is so inquisitive and has always found the answers she wants; even if she knows she will not like them. I want to tell her, more than ever, that our mother is alive, that she is not gone. I want Anna to know that I am doing my best to give her the family she deserves.

"I can't." My voice stumbles and falters, not knowing what I can say.

"But you do know you know exactly who is on that boat; you know exactly who Hans has killed. That's why you did this, that's why he is our King, why he's your husband." Anna's voice is sharp. It is all making more and more sense to her, she understands far more than I have ever wanted her too. She does not need to know this. She does not need the fouler details of my life.

"Anna, this is not important, not too you. You don't need this." I try to insist; try to have her change the subject.

"Yes I do. My fiancé is on that boat with whomever Hans has been threating you with?"

I stand. My legs feel weak, but not as weak as I felt on the floor. I need Anna to understand that I am doing everything for her. I am doing this for her and for our family. I part from the wall and come to stand beside, the now angry, Anna.

"I know I am not giving you the answers you want. I know I have not been for quite some time now." I reach my arm around Anna and pull her to my side in the hug that softens the rigidity of her expression. "I know that you are scared, and I know this because I am too." I find that I am trying to ease Anna's worries as much as I am my own.

"What do we do then? If you don't know what to do then who will? Who is going to die when we run out of ways to hide?"

Anna deserves an answer, she always has, but I do not give her one. I wait. I remain silent. We wait together, not knowing what we are waiting for, only that it has not come yet. What is there still to come? What will Hans do when I dare come to face him? Will be prove himself wiser than I suspect and discover the near existence of his son? Do I dare hope that my mother will be granted a future?

My chest feels tight, as if taking a deep breath is not something it is willing to do. I have convinced myself that I can feel it, that I can feel the heir inside me. I do not know if it is entirely in my head, or if some of the feeling is grounded in reality. It would be far too soon to imagine a kick, or proper movement of any kind, but still, he is there.

"So I am to be an Aunt." Anna muses in what must be an irrational moment of mirth. "I am going to spoil the little devil rotten."

"Don't you dare." I warn, playing in to the stunning normalcy of the situation.

"Just try and stop me. I'm going to be the best aunt, the aunt to end all aunts. There has never been an aunt as great as me."

I laugh.

We settle in to silence again, but this time it is a calm and comfortable silence. Perhaps we have dared to be optimistic. Perhaps we are fools, but we are happy fools. We might not be safe, but we feel safe. Right now I am confident that Hans cannot hurt me. For these seconds I know that I am brave, maybe not brave enough, but still just a little bit brave, and a little bit is better than nothing.

I suppose sometime soon I will have to make my way to the dining hall. I will have to eat, no longer just to please Hans with a polite appearance, but now for the son I have decided I cannot let go. He may eventually be molded in to a frightening king, but for now he is innocent and desperate for life. He will have an aunt, I know this now. I can be assured in the fact that while I am buried and gone he will have one person in whom he can confide.

I can leave him with that. I may not succeed as a mother, but I can be sure that Anna will succeed as an aunt. Children have always loved her. Little girls flock to her when she visits the markets, and little boys blush as they offer her flowers clenched in their tiny fists.

Anna will love him. Loving is second nature to her, she does it so easily. Hans nearly used it to our doom, but now it is strength. She can love my son. She can love him as I never could. She can give him her heart because that will be what he needs; he will need what I cannot give him. I hate that I could not love my son. I wish that I could, l long to be able to but Hanses eyes will always belong to him whether they are on his face, or my sons.

I pull Anna tighter to me, hugging her because it is all I can do. The words to thank her will never be enough. She gives, and she gives, desperate for family and love in return, and I will do my best to get her those. Right now it is my fault that she does not have her family, and it is my fault that her fiancé is not with her. If I die she might get them back. If I die for Hans and my son Anna might be granted her family back, and even if it is not a guarantee it is still better than me being alive.

* * *

**Well? How did I do? Let me know with a review! Consider this and the next few chapters the calm before the storm...**

**I'll have a new chapter up on the 6th, I promise that one will be a bit longer than this one was. **

**-Whovian123 **

**Aggregate Dragon: Thank you. I think it's safe to say she takes it a little less well in this chapter, but when the dust settles family really is forever. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. I had been waiting to write the scene where Olaf decided that all Elsa really needed was Anna for so long. It has always been part of the story, right from the beginning.  
**

**Guest: Thank you. Also I cannot PM you unless you have an account, and sign in to review with that account. **

**Phill: Thank you, and sorry for the inaccuracy. It didn't even occur to me to at least Google that before I started writing. I am glad it does not serve as a deterrent to your continued reading though.  
**


	37. Chapter 37

**Hi. There is more Anna in this chapter. I promise we'll get a wider variety of people in the next chapter, but in till then have fun with this one.**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own frozen. **

* * *

I do not make it to breakfast, but I do make it to lunch. Anna did not let me leave when I tried; she insisted that Hans does not deserve me at breakfast. I do not know whether I believe her, but I do know that the thought makes it easier to sit through lunch.

Hans ignores me, pausing only for the slightest of moments when I walk through the door with Anna. He recovers with ease and waits by my chair for me to take my seat. I play along and thank him as he pushes the chair back to the table, securing me within its arms, unable to run.

Food is in front of me before I get a chance to panic. While allowing myself to eat the heaping piles of vegetables I ask Kia for water yet again. He obliges, but this time it is with the begging's of a question in his eyes. Of course it is not unreasonable to crave water, but it is strange for me to feel the need to be discrete in my requests, as I have been the last several days.

Though, no one questions me swapping my wine for water, they are all too interested in what a young aristocrat is saying. He would appear to be telling a story, though of what I cannot be bothered to discover. Kasper seems to be spared from the spell the tale is weaving and insists on trying to catch my eye.

I turn to Anna in a bid to avoid him. She looks small and fragile next to Kristoff's empty chair. I want someone to ask where he is, I want someone to force the truth out of Hans, but no one cares about the ice farmer of common birth enough to notice. It troubles me too think that no one will care until I am gone. In the coming months I am too become a spectacle of life and the future monarchy, and no one will care that Kristoff hasn't been to a meal in weeks.

Talking does not feel smart, talking might draw attention to me. The dignitary seems quite pleased that his story is receiving such undivided attention and I have no desire to put an end to it. So I remain quite. I stare in to my plate, daring several bites when my stomach feels calm enough to not revolt.

The food is bland, but I eat it anyway. It is a distraction, something to focus on while I wait out the crowd. I need to eat anyway. It is not as if I could start fast now, not with the need to eat for not only myself, but for my son as well. My chest tightens and I find the food much harder to swallow now. I do not like the thought of a child inside of me. It feels strange and frightening, and even more so knowing that it is Hanses. I did not ask for this, I did not want this. Hans forced me in to this situation.

I do let my face fall. I keep my eyes trained to my food; it is safe to do so. I reach for my goblet and welcome the additional distraction of water. Do not look at Hans. I cannot look at Hans. I can feel his eyes on me, I do not know when he turned from the dignitary to me, but I know he did. If I look at him he will know the truth. I do not know how, but I am sure he will find it in my eyes.

Food, I stare at my food and wait out the world.

The world soon relents and I am able to escape. I ignore the eyes that follow me as I leave; I pretend I do not know that Hans is watching me. I pretend that I am not scared. I convince myself that he will not leave the hall several minutes after me; I convince myself that he will not look for me, and I pray that he will not track me down.

I pass through the door with Anna in quick succession. "It stopped raining." I do not know why I feel the need to mention what I am sure Anna has already noticed. It must be the silence, or the knowledge that Hans is not far behind us.

"It can't rain forever."

I wish it could. It could become the background noise of my life; it could fill the cracks and distract me from terror. Olaf and Anna are right though. It cannot rain forever. So with that knowledge dancing in the front of my mind I listen for footsteps other than Anna's and mine.

"Elsa." Anna says. "I need to know who else is on that boat."

She must know that I cannot tell her. She must know that the castle is not safe for far more reasons than just Hans. I look for guards, determined to find somewhere safe where I do not have to worry about my traitorous sentry. The corridor is free from prying eyes, but it still does not feel safe. I have heard some say the walls have eyes, and now I believe them. Escape feels so limited, even when I am alone, save for Anna, and I know that no guard lurks behind the coming corners I am still reluctant to speak.

"Anna, you know that I can't tell you." I try to explain.

"Elsa, you have to stop, just please stop. You can't do this alone, you can't. No one could." Anna is right, of course she is, but I have convinced myself so deeply that this is my fault and, therefore, my problem. "I just want to help you, and I need to know how Hans is making you do _this_..."

What she means when she says "_this_" is all too clear. She wants to know what is so great that I would surrender our country and bring an unwanted child in to the world.

I survey the hallways again, adopting the nervous and twitchy habit of checking over my shoulder. Do I dare tell Anna the truth, could I end it all in this corridor. Could she handle knowing the truth? I work my jaw, pushing it up, down, and all around. It is as if the truth will be heavier and larger than all other words.

Anna pushes further. "Elsa, I have a right to know the truth. You lie to everyone, please don't lie to me. You tried to keep secrets once and that didn't turn out well. Please just tell me the truth."

Perhaps that is why the truth feels so difficult. I have spent so long knowing secrets that I mustn't tell. Could I even speak the words to be honest, would my body let go of what it seems to consider my last defense. Could I fight the urge long enough to be honest, do I want too?

"Anna." I will tell her. This is no different from confessing to her sleeping form. "I-."

"There you are sweetie." A voice booms across the hall; a voice that I know too well, the voice which triggers a flood of memories, none of them good. "I've been looking for you, you ran out of lunch so fast we didn't get a chance to chat." Hans says.

Anna and I freeze, all thoughts of confession and safety shattered by the sharpness of Hanses voice. He has a purpose, he intends to achieve something and I worry that I will not be able to fend as well as I did last time.

"Ah, yes, sisters chatting, nothing quite like family is there?" I catch the split second glare that I get from Hans as he says the word family; he is threatening that which he still has in his possession.

"No, there isn't" Anna agrees rather harshly with Hans, her dislike prominent in her tone.

"Tut tut, such a tiny princess with such a big attitude." Hans strolls toward me, disregarding Anna. "You best leave me and your sister to be, we have business to attend to."

"NO." Anna shouts. "Don't you dare go near her!" She is marching toward Hans, her 'big attitude' put on display with her tone and her brash shouting. "I will not have you lay one finger on my sister. She's done with you and so am I."

I worry that history will repeat itself and that Hans will so find Anna fist colliding with his face. I intervene before anything so drastic happens. "You really should go." Anna's energy feeds my words, gives me the courage to bluntly tell this man "no" and to know that I will stand by it with everything I have.

"And what can you do to make me listen to one word that comes out of your mouth." I can see the quiver in Hanses brow, and the tremor in his hands that tells me I need do much less than I thought now that I have displayed the more extreme and volatile end of my focused rage.

"You know what I can do, and you know what I will do when someone I love is at stake" I both threaten and promise Hans that I will protect my sister and my mother. In order to protect Anna I need Hans away from us, and in order to protect my mother I need to remove Hans is the least violent way possible.

He backs away from Anna and me, not with unsteady feet, but not with footing that looks strong or steady. He is nervous now; he has discovered that I have a breaking point. He knows that pushing me too far is not fun and is in fact rather dangerous. I have started to hate myself the tiniest bit less and I am all the more daring for it.

"Elsa." Anna dares break the silence several drawn out moments after Hans has turned the corner. "You're shaking." I look down at my hands to find that Anna is right. They jitter about casting curls of frost through the air and sending flakes of snow to the ground.

I let a mumble of sorts fall from my mouth and then I turn my hands in to tight fists. My eyes shut out the world and I take in the blackness of my eye lids. As if the never-ending black may hold the answers I feel slipping away from me, the answers I am convinced lay with Hans and my mother.

The blackness falls away and I take in the world once again, a world currently occupied largely by a worried Anna. "You know you can't let him near you. He might hurt it." Her eyes flit to my stomach and I am reminded of yet another thing to lie awake worrying about. So many dark thoughts fill my head when the stars come out, and now I have to worry for my son, my son that I will never get to love.

"You can't call it 'it'." I do not know what it bothers me so to hear Anna say 'it', but my shoulders clench and I want to shout over the words as not to hear it. It stings as an insult would.

"If not 'it' then what?" Anna asks.

"Anything else, just not 'it' he doesn't feel like an 'it'." I try to explain why it irritates me so.

"He?" Anna's eyebrows rise in question. "How could you possibly know that?"

"I don't, 'he' just feels better than 'it'.

"Ok. Hans might hurt him." Anna relents.

"I know."

"And what do you intend to do about this?" Anna's prompts.

"I don't know."

Anna looks remarkably irritated by my lack of knowing. I do wish I did know, but knowing seems far too hard right now. To know would be to feel safe and sure in what I want, both of which I am not. "How can you not know? How do you not have an end in mind? Elsa, Hans can't do this forever, nothing about this situation is sustainable."

She sounds as desperate as I feel. I want her to have the answer and she wants me to have it. "I know. Anna, believe me, I know. I know that I am being useless. I know that none of this makes sense to you, but please know that this doesn't make any sense to me either." My breath comes in a quick series of gasps. "I want this too all be over and pushed away just as much as you do, but you can run, none of these problems will follow you. I cannot run, no matter how fast, or far, I run I cannot outrun my son, or the obligation Hans has me tied up in."

"What obligations?" Anna breaks and stands directly in front of me. "Just tell me. There is no reason not to tell me."

"Yes there is." I am shouting, shouting with everything I have, and needing Anna to understand. "You would hate me again!"

This causes Anna to stumble. "Again?" The question is meek. "Again? Elsa, how could you… How could you say that?" She takes several paces and ends up standing in front of a window. "I'm your sister." She brings her hand ever so slowly to the glass pane keeping the weather from invading the hall. The heavy rain clouds of earlier have rolled across to the horizon. "I thought you hated me. You must know how it looked from my perspective. Elsa, you wouldn't utter a word, not to me. Mum and Dad, they got to go inside your room, not often, but it was enough. It was all enough to get the clear message that you didn't want me. That you hated me." She leans her forehead to the glass, taking in the smooth chilled texture with a newly forming smile and ignoring the few tears that are rolling across her cheeks. "I have never hated you, not now, not then."

The things I want to say do not come; the words that would work simply do not exist. I have been ignorant, I have forgotten Anna. This was all for her and I forgot her. I muster up what little courage I have, and move my feet. I come to stand next to Anna, still trying and still failing to find words.

It does not matter though, for Anna takes my waist in her arms and pulls me in to a hug. I stand startled for a quick moment, but then wrap my arms tight around Anna. I close my fists against the fabric of her dress, secure in her and that she is real and that she is safe. I let her bury her face in my chest, I let her block out the confusion and chaos of the world.

I squeeze my eyes shut and push my nose against the top of her head, reveling in the hair that tickles my face. In this second, this fleeting moment of perfection, I am not worried about losing control; I am not worried about Hans and what he may do. I am not worried about escaping my future. I am content in the pocket of perfection. I am content with world and all it may offer me. Nothing seems too much for me to deal with if I know that my sister is standing by me.

We stand interlocked and breathing as one for what I am convince is hours. I am sure we will have to release one another, but I do not want to, so I shall cling tight to Anna for longer yet.

* * *

**The sisters are a little bit of a mess, don't worry though, next chapter will see them pull themselves back together (sorta). **

**Leave a review and let me know what you thought. I'll have the next chapter out on the 11th. **

**-Whovian123**

**Yulissab432: Thank you, and there is plenty more to come. **

**The Pianist's Touch: I touched on that in this chapter briefly, but short answer would be, she isn't sure. It's just what Hans is demanding. The thought of not giving him what he want scares Elsa, so she dubs her child a "he." **

**BloomingRoze: Thank you very much. I suppose he would declare a miscarriage and kill the child. Let's hope that doesn't happen. **

**Aggregate Dragon: Aww. Thank you. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Yes, I think Anna is also very much clinging to Elsa in hopes of comfort along with answers. Without each other I am sure neither would be sane. **

**Phill: Thank you. And now you have to wait five days between chapters. Catching up is always bitter sweet. **


	38. Chapter 38

**Hello my beloved readers. Sorry that the last chapter was so short and, well, I just wasn't very pleased with the end result, but it was late and I had a deadline. I am much more excited for you to read this chapter. We get a little bit of Kasper in this one.**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

I am not entirely sure how I make it to dinner, nor am I sure how I manage the meal. Furthermore how I get from the dining hall to my room with Anna sitting in a chair and wringing her hands is a mystery. I also do not know how I managed to avoid Hanses gaze, and his wrath. I am grateful though, and so very relived, that the only challenge left in the day will be falling asleep, for as difficult as it is to endure the nightmares at least I know that they stand in between breakfast am me.

Anna refuses to leave me, insisting that I am safer if she stays by my side at all times. I do allow myself to feel a certain amount of security. While I am by no means safe, I am at slightly less peril with Anna being as stubborn as she it. So I let her sit in my favorite chair and turn my disused lantern over in her hands.

We both start as knocking sounds at the door. "Oh no, no, no, no." I hear to word drop from Anna's lips. She is right; there is no way whoever is knocking means any good. It cannot be Kristoff, he is otherwise located. It has to be Hans. When the knocking comes again I cannot help but flinch. "Don't let him in." Anna insists as we both wait for the door to be wrenched open, or for the knocker to relent.

"I can hear you." The knocker informs us that we have not been as quiet as we would have liked. It is, in fact, not Hans who seems to be knocking, but Kasper.

Anna's face morphs from worry to confusion. "Who is that?"

I ignore her and dart to the door, opening it and pulling Kasper in, then shutting the door behind him. "What are you doing here?" I ask.

"I could ask the very same thing of you. You keep avoiding me; you wouldn't look at me during lunch and dinner. Did I do something wrong, did he hurt you?" Kasper pulls me in to a tight hug that breathes warmth in to my chest. "I'm worried about you."

"What?" I break from the hug to see a rather confused, and nearly angry, Anna standing in front of her chair, lantern now forgotten on my desk, and mouth open demanding answers. "I'm sorry, who are you and why are you so familiar with my sister?"

Kasper pulls away from me, looking nervous as he takes several steps toward Anna. "Hello. I am Prince Kasper." He offers a handshake which is promptly ignored and left to hang in the air.

"You'll have to forgive me; foreign princes set me on edge." There is a coldness seeping in to Anna voice which worries me. "And you still have yet to tell me why you are so familiar with my sister."

Kasper stumbles through several vowels and then takes several steps towards the wall opposite Anna. I decide it is time to intervene before Kasper faints or Anna Attacks him. "He was a guest; he was here for the wedding, and the engagement party."

"So were the other guests. I don't see any of them knocking on your door."

"Anna. He's fine. He's ok. I promise. You don't have to worry about anything." I try to reassure her. "He's my friend, and I trust him."

Anna relents, returning to her chair and taking the lantern back in her hands to fiddle with. Her gaze follows Kasper as he steps away from the wall and towards me. "Are you ok? Has he done anything?" He asks.

"Nope, I've been keeping her safe." Anna interjects before I can answer myself.

"Anna. He's not Hans." I try to make Anna see that, while she has every right to be wary of strangers, not all strangers are going to try and marry you for your country and then kill to see you weep. She does not take kindly to my claim.

"Elsa, you are my sister, and I am going to protect you from threats know, and _unknown_." Her voice is rising and I worry that she may do or say something truly awful.

"You are my little sister, and it is my job to protect you, not the other way around."

"I would like to say that I do not consider myself a threat in anyway. Had either of you seen me trying to handle a sword you would be unimpressed." Kaspers offers, his intent to lighten the mood noble, but his voice rather uneasy.

"Not another word out of you!" Anna demands. "I don't trust you yet."

Yet, at least she said yet. I do want her to like Kasper. It seems a silly thing to be worried over, but I know I would be happier if she could bring herself to be friendly, or perhaps less threatening. "Anna, he has been nothing but trustworthy… He knows about Hans, he knows that he hurts me." I add the last part rather quickly. Determined to have each party from informing the other of things that I would rather not have them be informed of.

"I am good at secrets." Kasper offers.

"You told him?" Anna asks her voice close to outrage.

"He figured it out. He saw one of the bruises and it was a lucky guess. I didn't want him to know, but he does. There is nothing I can do to make him forget, and the last time I ran away from a secret being exposed there was an eternal winter. I wanted to avoid that this time around."

"Fair enough." Anna's voice holds a begrudged smile. "It was a whole ordeal last time, trying to get the snow to stop."

We both laugh a little as this. Knowing that Anna's anger is behind her I encourage Kasper to move further in to the room. He is, understandably, a little wary, but does not retreat to the wall when Anna looks up at him. "I'm sorry. It has been a trying set of days am I am in no position to trust people."

Kasper brushes off the apology, insisting that it was only reasonable of Anna to worry and that it was endearing to see sisters that looked out for each other so relentlessly. He eventually comes to settle on the edge of my bed, next to me, as his and Anna's small talk draws to a close.

I suppose it is vaguely unwise of me to trust Kasper so easily. He is a strange man from a strange place, but it is not as if I have offered him land, or any sort of reward, for being here. He comes to me of his own accord and has had to deal with rather unglamorous things, such as burning severed limbs.

"Has Hans done anything? Are you ok?" Kasper asks.

"No, I'm fine. Anna wasn't joking; when I am around people he doesn't try anything." I explain.

Kasper nods. There isn't much more too say. Hans is crazy, we all know that. I don't even want to think about what he would do to me if my son proves to be a daughter instead. He might spare my life and give me another chance to 'get it right' but it would be at the cost of her life. I know that no matter whom the father may be I would die for my child.

We chat, it is nervous chatting at first, but soon enough we are smiling real smiles no longer just for the comfort of feigning joy. We are happy in spite of the world crashing around us. I suppose Kaspers world in not falling apart in the true sense that mine and Anna's is, he can leave when the winter breaks. As the ice melts he will sail away and return to his home with strange now stories of our confusing customs and confused monarchy. I know that I will miss him.

In spite of myself, and Anna's dedication to keeping me sane, I have found myself quite fond of Kasper and the way his chest feels as a bury my head away from the world. I do not know what it is that he possesses, but he offers warmth that does not scare me away. Both he and Anna make me feel safe, and together they make me feel as if life is good.

I do not know why I want to keep the existence of my son from Kasper. It is clear to me why Anna must not be told of our mother and father, but I do not understand why Kasper finding out about me carrying Hanses child makes me nervous. Logically it should mean nothing to him; it should mean less than it does to Anna. He will not have any ties to it, just as he does not have any ties to me.

I know that I do not want the winter to end. I do not want Kasper to leave. It is strange and frightening to feel attached to someone who I know will leave me. He has to leave. Hans would not stand for the presence of a prince he knows I have grown fond of. Hans has had no trouble displaying just how far he will go in punishing Kasper. I cannot risk Kasper staying here.

"Elsa?" Anna's voice breaks through my thoughts. "Elsa? Did you hear me? Have you been staring out the window this whole time?"

I clear my throat. "Not the whole time."

Anna rolls her eyes, Kasper chuckles, and I smile. It cannot be understated how great it feels to be able to smile without it being a show. I am smiling, and it is for me, it is because I am happy, not because I have to keep guests happy.

I return my gaze to the window, now actually looking though it as opposed to musing. There is no rain, and the light of day has faded. The stars are popping out through the dark of the sky. I can see the white coated mountains if I strain my eyes; they blend with the night, but are not truly invisible. They represent a sanctuary of sorts, for though I may have panicked, and nearly been killed, while I hid among them, they still gave me a sense of self that I had fought against for so long.

My body shivers. It is not a true shiver born out of cold. It is the cause of worry and the feeling of ones grave being walked over. I am happy now. I cannot remain so forever. Hans will come as he does, and I will have to face him at some point. The presence of Anna and Kasper will not keep him a bay forever.

I do feel stronger now. I have yet another life hanging in my, grievously ill-equipped, hands. I am horribly motivated to outwit Hans, to find a way in which I can win. There is no answer that I have stumbled across, but I am still ruthlessly determined to win somehow. I _will_ find a way.

"No. There is a summer, it's just rather short and never truly melts away all of the frost. The lakes, river, and ocean clear of ice, but the window is brief. Not many people come, and fewer people have places to go." Kasper is telling Anna about his home. "There is no reason to leave though. The mountains are jagged and rich; the plains are softened with snow. In the winter everything is so blue, the snow and the ice take over color and replace the richest of reds with blues."

"What about in the summer?" Anna asks.

"When the snow does melt the grass is ambitious. It sprouts up in tuffs and brings hundreds of tiny delicate flowers with it. The trees are as strong and proud as they were when coated with snow, they do not lose their leaves. They do not even have leafs. The only trees that dare grow close to us are the type with slim green needles." Kaspers voice melts away as he remembers the finer details of life back home.

"It sounds beautiful." I offer.

"It is. It can make you feel so small and so big all at once."

"Can we visit?" Anna asks. "When this has been sorted out, can we come see it? I can't imagine what it must be like in person."

Kasper nods.

I yawn.

"I sorry. It's not what you were- Your home sounds amazing- I promise it wasn't... You are very interesting." I stumble through explanations, searching for the words to explain that I am truly tired and that my yawn was no remark on his story telling.

He laughs. "Don't mention it your majesty. I only hope you forgive the most grievous crime of keeping you up far beyond what must be the norm for a queen." With that he stands and bows out of the room, catching my eyes and smiling a broad, soulful smile.

I smile back. It does feel oh so good to smile. I find that I am still smiling even though the door is closed and Kasper is, presumably, making his way back to his room.

Anna notices my smile and this, in turn, causes an amused smile to grace her face as she turns back to the lantern that she, once again, has in her hands. I raise an eyebrow in question, she looks up to see this and nearly laughs.

"What is it?" I ask.

"It's nothing." She insists with her persistent knowing smile.

"Anna."

"It's rather cute."

"What is?"

"You'll know soon enough."

I do not press for more; I know that all the answers I receive shall be cryptic. Instead I ask another question. "Are you going to wait here all night?"

"Yes."

"Why."

"Because he won't hurt you if I am here, and I promised to keep you safe."

I do not question Anna's logic, and I do not remind her that it ought to be me protecting her. I just pull myself in to my bed and hold the blanket open in offer to Anna. I know that the chair is not a comfortable place to spend the night.

She replaces the lantern on my desk and accepts my offer. It does not take long for her breathing to steady and the occasional light snore to fill the air. I find that I am tired; I also find that I am not afraid to sleep. The world around me fades away as my eyes shut and I step in to the world of dream and nightmares, hoping that, perhaps, tonight I shall stumble only upon the prior.

* * *

**Anna sure is determind to keep Elsa safe, isn't she. I wonder if that could get her in to trouble later? **

**I'll have a new chapter out for you on the 16th. **

**Anyway, Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, or favorited.**

** : Thank you, both for the advice and the complement. I love knowing in which ways I can improve my writing. **

**Phill: Thank you. Hopefully the wait between chapters never stretches out to much. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Elsa will be giving Hans a good shouting at soon-ish. And there are plenty more hugs to be had for Elsa.  
**

**Aggregate Dragon: Thank you. I guess Kristoff might have run in to the mother. But he might not have gotten to talk to her yet. **

**Yulissab432: Thank you, very much. I shall be awaiting another review most eagerly. **


	39. Chapter 39

**We are starting to get rather close to the end now, next chapter is slow on action, but everything else is a mad rush to the end. **

**I was actually toying with the idea of a sequel, I can promise that if I decide on it that it will not be some forced tacked on story line, the only reason I am think of a sequel is that it comes up organically when I think about the future of the characters. Let me know if you think it is worth it. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own frozen. **

* * *

I do dream, and I am not sure if it is a nightmare. I can only make out partial images; even those are swirled and impossible to focus on. There are sparks of light burning around me. They look warm but I feel as I have never felt before. I am cold. Rather, I think I am cold. Many have tried to explain the sensation to me before. Anna has spent many an afternoon trying to come up with the words to help me understand.

It is like a strange backwards fire. It licks and kicks against my skin, keeping me from moving when all I want to do is curl in to a ball. It feels like the saddest moments in my life, but demands that I move forward. It will not let me wallow. My tears will not flow, perhaps they are dry. My joints want to explode and my feet no longer feel attached to my body. All of my fingers have gone blue, and this 'cold' this strange chill has wormed its way in to my soul. My thoughts stop and I cannot restart them.

He is in front of me. Hans, breathes on my face and burns it with ice. He speaks, but my ears hear him only as if he were talking though water. The green of his eyes is flaring and quickly consumes me. It pulls at my edges and takes root in my heart. "I know. Of course I know." His voice comes from within my head. The Hans in front of me still speaks in muted confusing sounds, but another voice, from another Hans speaks directly to my soul. "How would I not have known about my son? I know, of course I do."

I thrash and wriggle, trapped, confused, and so cold. How does he know? He must know. Of course he would know. "You're mothers dead Elsa, she has been for a while now. I didn't need her any longer, and it's not as if you have any way of knowing the truth. That Kristoff fool has been slaughtered as well. Actually, it would seem as if we only have one royal left to deal with; your little sister."

Anna is in front of me now. She is bound and gagged. The Hans that is still speaking in muffled sounds cuts away her gag and slips the knife from her mouth to her neck. It rests tight against Anna's skin as she begins to speak. I can hear her as I would normally, neither in my head or distorted. "Why, why did you do that Elsa? How could you break our family apart a second time? This has always been your fault, but obviously you know what. You always knew, and know Kristoff is dead because of you. I wish it was you instead Elsa. None of this would have happened if you were gone. Why couldn't you have just gone away as a child? I could have ruled a thousand times better than you."

I know that I am crying. The tears are now free and flowing with vigor. I gasp and splutter around pleas for Anna to understand, for her forgiveness. She offers nothing but stern eyes and a flat expression. Then her face falls to blankness. A wine red pours from her throat, pulsing around the blade that dug too deep and killed her. I curse a string of pathetic and vile swears at Hans, but my bravo is thin and soon I am crying. The cold, which had taken a reprieve, is now back with malice; I feel not much more than a paper shell of myself if even that. Anna's body has been thrown down to the ground by the muted Hans and is being consumed by blood. It crawls up her arms and combs through her hair, determined to taint every inch of her.

Then it is in my mouth, choking me, forcing me to stop cursing and crying. As I battle for air the Hans in my head begins again. "She was right you know. You ruined this. It all comes back to you. You are a freakish display of the worst. You should have never come out of your room. You should have let your sister have her family. She deserved a family, one without you, one that was _perfect_."

The blood is in my eyes to, and my nose, and everywhere. It is all I can feel and all I can see.

Then light, sunlight

My chest heaves in an impossible breath, and I revel in the lack of blood in my lungs. My eyes are open as wide as they will go and I cannot tear them away from the lines of sunlight on the ceiling. There are tears, I can feel them; they slide across my face and down my neck. I want to look over; I want to see that Anna is alive, and that she is ok. I am scared I will see something awful.

The desperation is overwhelming and I can no longer fight the urge. I see her face, Anna's face. Her eyes are closed, not hanging open like empty windows. Her skin is full of color and her cheeks rosy red, not the stark white of death that I see in my mind's eye. Her chest moves, it rises and falls just as it should. Overwhelmed I put my palm over my face in a weak effort to mop up my tears. "Thank you." I mutter the words over and over again. I continue to watch Anna, between my fingers, and thank her for being alive.

I decide that to attempt sleep is a waste of time. I will not be able to fall asleep again, and I do not want to. I get up slowly as not to disturb, the blessedly alive, Anna. She groans and shifts but does not wake. The room is tinged with ice. Small pools of it have welled up where the walls meet the floor, and the window is frosted over, letting in only light. A dusting of snow is scattered across the floor, not a layer, simply some snowflakes that have dared to fall.

The frost in the window thickens as I try to brush it away. My hands curl in to fists and I gulp at the air. I have to calm down. Dreams are nothing, nightmares are not real. Anna is fine… for now. She may not be tomorrow thought, or next week, even as early as today Hans could decide to give her a little accident. He does not want to arouse suspicion, but he also cannot have Anna traipsing around threatening to blow his cover.

I try once again to wipe the frost from the window, it works this time. It does not work well, but I can judge the weather and time from the small circle. The mountains are still coated with snow, and there is still winter in the air. The rain from the days previous has frozen to everything, sticking to the wood, making the world slick, filling in the potholes of the road with ice.

"Why is there ice everywhere?" I hear Anna's sleepy voice ask. She is asking about the room and not about the world outside.

"No reason."

"Elsa, did something happen?" Her voice is still nearly asleep, but she is coming back to the world as she begins to worry and sits up in my bed.

"Nothing happened. I had a bad dream and lost control a tiny bit."

"What was it?"

"The dream?"

Anna mumbles her conformation before lying back down, content to know that nothing awful has happened outside of dreams. "Hans killed you, and I was cold. At least, that must be what cold is like, it was awful and confusing. "

"But it was a dream, it doesn't mean anything. I am rather sure I have not been killed." Anna continues with her mumbles.

"I know. It was so real though, his voice and yours. You said… _things_."

"Things?"

"Bad things." I elaborate. "You accused me of ruining our family. You said it was my fault that mom and dad are gone." I choke around the slight marring of the truth.

"You know that's not your fault." Anna decides sleep will no longer be an option and sits up. "Elsa, it was a shipwreck. It couldn't have less to do with you."

I nod. She is right. I could have done nothing about a shipwreck, but I could have done something about Hans killing our father. I don't even know whether of not I have failed my mother. She could be dead and I have no way of telling. Even Kristoff's life is swinging out of my grasp.

"Your eyes were so empty." My voice shakes and I remember the nightmare, nightmare decidedly for it can be nothing so kind as a dream, all over again.

Anna reaches out and places her hand on my shoulder. Her fingers push away the ghost of the 'cold' I had felt. I flinch away from the touch, but then move back in to the reassurance that her companionship gives. "Are they empty now?"

I look back at her and see that she is looking in to my eyes. Her eyes are honest and bare. They do not lie and are full of understanding. She does not feel eighteen; her eyes speak of far more years than that. "No," I answer, "they are not."

"Good. Now you better remember that I do not intend to go anywhere. I have got your back, and I will be here for you."

I wait several moments, not knowing what to say. "Breakfast is soon." I warn.

"Let's not go."

"Anna, I have to."

"No you don't." Her voice is horribly carefree.

"Oh really, and what, pray tell, would Hans do if he found out that I had skipped breakfast again?"

"He would shout, puff out his chest and fluff his ego, and then run away." Anna explains. "Because I don't know what you did, but you scared him."

"Anna. He may be scared, but he is still ruthless." I try to explain the things he can do, but am reluctant to say anything that may expose my secrets.

"I am calling his bluff. I've been doing some thinking, and have decided, it's ridiculous for him to kill Kristoff. First off; Kristoff is my fiancée. He is away for long periods of time, that is an unavoidable part of his job, but he is never gone for longer than a month, someone will notice and ask. Even if no one notices that Kristoff is gone, I am sure that killing Kristoff is not in Hanses plans." Anna explains with far too much confidence. "He knows that I am angry, and in order for me to not expose him for the true asshole he is to our guests, and tell everyone what he has done to you; he needs me to be kept in line. The threat of Kristoff's death would do that, but his death, would ruin this balance Hans has created."

I do not explain that this is a dangerous line of thinking. I do not remind Anna that Kristoff could already be dead, and I do not explain to her that the guards that she would have throw Hans out, are, in fact, the men that got him in.

Instead I agree. I give in to Anna's confidence and feed on it. I use it to fuel my smile and allow hope. I deserve a bit of hope, even if everything is so utterly hopeless. I follow Anna out of my room and decide that I will not worry. Breakfast is a small meal, and I have had to make up so very many excuses over the past months, Hans can try his hand at it for now.

We walk through the hallways with more confidence than we ought to have. I want to flinch and duck every time we pass by a guard, but I do not. I contemplate asking Anna just where she intends to go. It is not as if I can simply walk through the castle gates and parade around town. Our citizens would recognize us and we would draw far too much attention for me to remain calm.

We stroll closer and closer to the front doors and I feel more and more panicked. I squeeze my thumbs, holding on to the pain of a tight closed fist, letting it distract me from the guards that will not stop watching me. They are going to stop me, I am certain of it. They are going to shout and draw their swords and make a horrid spectacle of my disobedience when they drag me back to Hans.

"Stop." His voice is low and careless. "You are not permitted to leave the castle." I turn to see a guard, not much taller than myself, walking toward me as I stand in the doorway.

I turn away from his face and look forward. "I think you will find that Hans has made an exception for today." I wish I sounded more confident.

"Sorry sweetheart, you must know that I need more than just your word to let you leave."

"She is your queen," Anna reminds the guard, "and she has important matters to attend to in the town. You cannot keep her from her duties and her country."

"Actually I can." The guard informs. "I do not answer to her, I answer to Hans."

"What?" Anna says. "No you don't, Elsa is the queen, she is your superior. Hans comes second to her, he is not an Arendelle native. You answer to Arendelle and serve to protect us"

I panic, Anna's rising tones and the guards insulted expression will not end with a peaceful understanding. This was a bad idea; I should have known this was a bad idea. Breakfast would not have been difficult, just several bites of food and the standard polite conversation. Now we are far too deep in to out alternate plans to attend breakfast. We have spent to long refuting what this guard claims.

So I wrap my fingers around Anna's wrist and pull her though the door. We tear along the cobble path through the gardens. I can hear the guard shouting at us, demanding that we stop; demanding that we dare not take one more single step.

Anna shouts rather un-princessly things back at him, and, in spite of my better judgment, I join in as we dart through the main gates to the castle grounds.

Once the large stone walls are behind us the sun feels brighter, and the sky much bluer. Wind traces my smile and fuels our fervent steps. I am going to be in more trouble than I have been yet. I will face fists and threats that send me to my knees. I will deal with all of that later. For now, for these moments out where the smells are invigorating and the colours hold more weight, I will enjoy myself. I will listen to Anna's laugh and join in myself.

No guards follow us across the small bridge leading in to the town. It is strange but I am in no position to stop my running and enquire as to why they have not sprinted past the gates and followed us. I will accept out freedom and leave my worries with the guards.

* * *

**So, this chapter is longer than the last few have been. Please let me know what you thought of it by reviewing. **

**I will have a new chapter up for you on the 21st. **

**Aggregate Dragon: Thank you, and if anything is going to get the sisters in trouble, it will be the end of this chapter.  
**

**Guest: Thank you, yes I do know it is not edited perfectly, I have been meaning to go back and fix it. **

**Yulissab432: Thank you. I hope so too. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Yes it does seem as Anna is picking up on the Elsa and Kasper vibes.**

**bexmad: Thank you. Anna and Elsa are glued together at the hip for the next few chapters, so there is alot more of that.  
**

**Phill: Thank you. I work very hard to have a chapter up every 5 days. **

**musicalocelot: Ooooh. A new reader, how intriguing. Don't worry about showing up late, I'm just happy you showed up at all. We'll see what happens to Anna, the mother, and Kristoff. I think a few of them might make it out alive. Thank you so much for the review.**


	40. Chapter 40

**Hullo my kind readers. How are you? Good good. Me too. Nothing super action-y happens in this chapter, but alot of stuff that needs to be said is. Also, for all the action that this chapter is missing I can assure you the next few will be mad packed with action. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen.**

* * *

We stop running only once we have reached the heart of the town. Our cloaks lay in the castle, forgotten and creased, they are only remembered when we find ourselves swarmed by curios citizens. We exchange many pleasantries and wave away gifts and offers of all sorts.

Anna exchanges a thin gold bracelet, that I did not notice she had been wearing, for a loaf of dense bread and several apples. The merchant smiles a wide toothy grin at us, informs us that his name is Warren, tells us that if we ever need any more bread he has the best in town, and wishes us the best of luck as he slips the bracelet in to his breast pocket.

With the food in hand we soon find that if we elect to stay in the town we will be rather occupied with the citizens. I gauge the weather and decide that I know exactly where we can eat without wishing we could hide our faces with cloaks. It may not still be there, but the large plain that overlooks the castle and the city will be.

Anna and I manage to escape the, eager to please, citizens and find ourselves woefully unprepared for the hike that lay ahead of us. "How did you do this on your own?" Anna asks as she grips my wrist and I pull her up a rather steep ledge.

"How did you?" I counter while making sure that I myself do not trip over my feet.

"I wasn't alone, and Kristoff and me took the long way around, the one with a lot less cliffs." Anna chances a glance down at what would, undoubtedly, be a painful drop.

"We don't have enough time to make it all the way up, and then back home, unless we do it this way."

"I see your point, and I know you are right, but I cannot imagine how you managed without a spotter of any kind."

I smile. "Anna. When I come across a ravine, or steep ledge, I can make stairs."

"So you mean to tell me," Anna pauses for a moment as she scrabbles up the side of a slick rock face, "that you could be making me stairs right now, but you are not."

"You never asked."

"Would you please make some stairs for me... Please?" Anna smiles and offers a mocking curtsy.

"Maybe." I let the word hang in the air, drawing it out and delighting in the smile that Anna and I share.

I do give Anna ledges and platforms to stand on. She stumbles and slips, as most do on ice, but I never fail to have a hand outstretched when she needs it. We do not make the time I did on the night of my coronation. We trip and we laugh. We enjoy ourselves and forget about the destination often. My footing is more adept in the snow than Anna, but she is sure to drag me down with her every time she falls.

The north mountain comes in to view as the sun reaches higher in the sky. I am nervous that it will not be there, and I am nervous that it will be. It is one of the most beautiful things I have made. It also was the place of my downfall and houses so much terror. Hans beat me there. That was the first place that Hans won in. It is also the first place that I found the strength to not be afraid of myself.

We round the corner and my heart jumps though my chest and stomach up in to my throat. The sunlight casts impossible colors and shadows across every surface it can find. If the world had looked brighter outside of the castle grounds then up here it is a dream. It is still here, and it a reminded of the feelings I felt when I made it.

I take the stairs far slower than reasonable, large sections or railing have been swiped off and sent in to the ravine below. Every step I force brings back flashes of me running across a mountain top, scared, and exposed to a judgmental world. Up here I was safe, up here I am safe. The doors are hanging open at distorted angles. The entrance hall is chipped and marred from fighting and the rush of angry soldiers.

This is where I met Olaf, where I saw for the first time that I could bring life with my hands instead of only death. I find myself stuck at the bottom of the stairs, not quite willing to investigate the upper floor. I remember what I did up there, and what I almost did. I hate that it was Hans that kept me from killing. I hate that in that moment he was better than me. I was ready to destroy those poor men, and the only thing that kept them alive was Hans telling me to be better than I was.

"Are you ok?"

It is only now that I realize there are tears falling across my face. Embarrassed I nod. "Yes, I'm fine." I take a breath, trying to steady my shaky hands and voice. "It's just- I'm not sure if I'm happy, or sad, that it's still here."

Anna takes, and then squeezes, my hand. "You don't have to be happy, or sad. And you don't have to know which you wish you were. Nothing here can hurt you, not even memories."

With Anna's fingers tangled in mine I start to tackle the staircase. We rise around the pillars and walls, light breaking and shattering as it passes through the ice. I remember running up these, running away; first from Anna; and then from Hans and the men set on killing me. It hurt more running from Anna. She wanted to help, she always wants to help.

My heart speeds up as I see the damage of the main room, the room where I cursed Anna. There are large slopping spikes of ice jutting out toward the wall, and the wave of crystalline power that nearly sent a man to a violent death downside the mountain.

We pick our way around the broken and shattered remains of the chandelier."I didn't remember how much I did, how close I came to killing those men." I have always been scared of myself, scared that I could do impossible and irreversible damage. I came far too close to falling off the careful tightrope I have walked all my young adult life.

"It doesn't matter what you almost did. Elsa, the important thing is that you are ok, and I am ok, and we are still ok right now." Anna reassures me. "Also I am famished, so let's get to trying out this bread." She pulls out the apples and loaf from her bag.

We settle down on the balcony, letting our feet hang over the edge, appreciating the fruit along with the vibrant sky and sun. It must be noon; the sun is too high in the sky for it to be earlier or later. I can picture Hans perfectly in my mind. He must be sitting in the dining hall, scrambling for excuses and fuming at my absence. He will be angry when I come back, if I come back. No, I have to come back; I am bound by my mother, Kristoff, and the future of my unborn child. For as frightful as a life with Hans as a father may be, I know that I could not keep my son alive without a roof above my head.

I do wonder if it would be easier to tell Hans about it. To let Hans truly have is way in every sense of the word, to just waste away the rest of my months and to stop fighting. It drains me to fight. I do not have the energy left to keep up any pretence of true hope. I can enjoy myself now. Up above the world and the troubles within. I can feel safe and smile with Anna, but when I go back, it will be the end.

"Do you think," Anna swallows the last of her apple, "that you would be able to fix it." She gestures behind her, toward the chipped walls and vandalized space of my ice palace.

"I guess I could. It would be simple enough, but I don't know if I want to." I finish my apple. "It would feel... like I was trying to hide something, or covering something up. I am not proud of who I was up here, but I know that had I not been up here I would have never been myself." I wring my hands and stare up at the clouds. "I don't think I would take any of it back. I hated what I was, but in the end I had to feel that way. I had to want to fight and feel the rage; it made me never want to be that person again. I needed to feel it then so I could live later."

"I know what you mean. I had to spend a lot of time alone, and it made me who I am. Hurting is important, it is in no way fun, but it happens, and sometimes it needs to." Anna says. "Everything gets brighter when it stops hurting, it makes the hurting worth it."

We stare up at the clouds together, both of us deciding that we do not need to say anything else. We understand each other entirely, we had different struggles and pains, but we do not have to have the same pains to understand the other. Struggles are struggles regardless of context.

"Why didn't those guards listen to you?" Anna asks, offering and abrupt change of subject.

I pause, not sure how to explain to Anna that she is far less safe than she previously thought. In a perfect world she would never come to realize that our sentry has been taken over by malevolent forces such as Hans. "They are not the guards we grew up with. From what little Hans has explained to me I think he planted a mole of sorts during his stay here for my coronation." Hans has not explained an awful lot to me, why would he? Me knowing will do him no good, and me not knowing will keep me scared and weary. "And since then he has been replacing guard after guard with men allied with him."

"Are there any left that follow us?" Anna asks.

"I don't know." We say nothing else on the subject. There is not point. If there are any left that follow us there are not enough of them to help us in any way.

I flick my wrist and send a bolt of snow out in to the air before me. It catches the wind and swirls about for a while before settling on the ground. I send more snow out in front of me, delighting in the array of colors trapped within the shards of ice.

"What does it feel like?" Anna interrupts my impromptu snow show. "When you do the magic, what does it feel like?"

I am baffled, baffled so strongly because I do not know which words would ever do it justice. It would be to try to tell a blind man of the color green, or to explain the way a tree climbs toward the sky. "It's- well. It is like breathing, but not, it just feels as normal and simple as breathing is, but it's hard to control. It gets mixed up with my feelings."

"Do you ever wonder why you have your powers?"

"I used to. I used to sit in my room cursing my misfortune. It was never important though. It has always been there, I do not recall being cursed by a witch or being bound by a spell of sorts." I explain. "I am more focused on control than where this comes from."

"You never said what it feels like."

I did not, and I do not think I can explain it. I do try regardless though. "Free. It feels so blindingly free. When I let it be free it lets me feel free. When I stop holding it back and siphoning it, I stop feeling worried. It will protect me, I know that. So when I use my powers it is like taking a deep breath after being underwater." I know that I have not described the feeling, I know that I could not. This is the closet I shall come.

Anna nods, satisfied with my poor explanation. "Aim higher next time, the sun catches it more and the wind holds it longer." Anna mock flicks her wrist as I had been doing prior to her questions.

I smile and abide by her wishes. She is right; it does hold more splendor when the light catches it so. The wind carves curls of white and sends powdered snow back in our direction when it turns. Anna splutters against the snow and accuses me of foul play. I counter her accusation by sending a bolt of powder her way. She smiles and laughs with mock anger, gathering up a snowball and sending it back in my direction.

We enter in to an epic battle that bards would be honored to sing about, it is a pity there are none to pray witness. My hair is falling on my face and matted with ice as our scuffle draws to a close. Anna's hair is also a mess and her cheeks are flushed as to fight against the cold.

The wind is picking up and the sun is crawling ever closer to the horizon. "We should go back." I say.

"No we shouldn't." Anna does not miss a beat on disagreeing with me. "We don't have to."

"Yes we do. Anna we owe it to our people to rescue this country, and you owe it to Kristoff keep him safe."

Anna does not respond right away. I hear her breathing, slow and deliberate. She knows I am right, we are bound to our country, and she; to Kristoff. "Just a few more hours… please?" Anna asks.

"Of course." I agree. My gaze shifts away from Anna and back to the sky. Several additional hours cannot do much more damage. I might as well enjoy what is shaping up to be an ethereal winter sunset.

Yes, these hours will do fine as the precursor to what is sure to be a hellish night. I only hope that whatever Hans decided is a worthy punishment will not carried out in front of Anna, even if he has to lock her out in the hallways. I would prefer to hear her scream my name though a door, and not watch as my Husband runs her through with a sword.

* * *

**There it is... Not to sure how I feel about it, but it is the calm before the storm. **

**I am still struggling with my sequel problem... in a few chapters you will understand why I think I might have to tack on a short sequel...**

**Next chapter up for you guys on 26th. Look out for it, it's gonna be good... I hope... **

**Thank you to everyone that reviewed, favorited, and followed. **

**musicalocelot: Thank you. Yes, large heaps of trouble will be making an appearance next chapter. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Oh yes, Hans is going to be angry, oh so very angry. **

**Aggregate Dragon: Thank you. Yes he would, if he were smart, but he is not, and he has made a tragic mistake. **

**meandtheboys: Oh, new are you? How interesting. Elsa has been broken, probably for longer than she realizes, but I think the pieces are going to be pulled back together soonish.  
**

**Yulissab02: Thank you, yes I think Elsa's day was a good one. **

**Julie Horwitz: Thank you. I appreciate that you understand what Elsa doesn't do, and cannot bring herself to do, is just as important as what she does do. **


	41. Chapter 41

**Hello. How are you doing? I finally have a larger chapter for you, but I have an even larger one coming in a few chapters, the biggest one yet. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

Picking our way down the mountain with the setting sun lighting our way is far more difficult that it was going up. Anna clutches my hand as we weave though trees and drop down slopes. With time we do find ourselves back in the town. We walk down the streets, by the houses, and market stalls. Not much is open, and that which is, has little traffic.

We are trying to stall. We both know it, but neither of us speaks it. I am determined to ignore the looming terror waiting for me in the castle. We are happy now, we have been happy today, and I will ignore the unhappiness in my future. It proves all to easy to ignore as Anna laughs, jokes, and manages to exude joy in spite of our predicament.

As the last of the citizens turn to their beds, and the moon and stars start to feel too comfortable in the sky, we resign to our fate. We have to go back. It is ridiculous now, ridiculous to pretend that we could run away, that we could escape. As free as I may have felt today, I am still trapped. I have been trapped this whole time, penned in by the lives that depend on me, and bound by the overwhelming sense of guilt regarding my father's death.

We approach the gate together, our steps in sync and our hands tightly clasped. "I am not going to leave you, no matter what happens. I will keep you safe." Anna insists under her breath.

"And I you." I try to steady my breathing, though I soon realize that it is a pointless thought. My chest will heave and there is nothing I can do about it. I could in no way manage to sneak back in to the castle. I will be caught and taken directly to Hans.

The gates loom closer, and closer. I strain my eyes to searcher for guards, but find none. Perhaps there are none, perhaps Hans has somehow not noticed our absence. No, he knows. Wishful thinking is a pointless lie. He would have been told and he will have been planning. I will have to face this and it will be awful.

I can see the stone, the stone of the walls and the wrought iron of the gates, I can see the frost on them and I worry that it is my doing. I am in enough trouble as it is, I do not need to lose what little control I still retain. Not when so much of everything is out of control.

Anna's breath frosts in the air, I can see it, it comes in short and fast grasps. She is nervous, as am I, but this is my fault. She should not be nervous. I grip her hand tighter still and hope that she knows I want to protect her just as much as she does me. I really do wish I had been better, been better at any of this, that I had managed the threats with more grace, or found a way to stop Hans before any of this started. I wish that I had been a proper Queen, a proper ruler as my mother and father had been.

The gates part before us in the most frightening way. We walk through them, scared and small, but still a team. A team that is determined to defend each other. For several moments it seems as if we will be ignored. It feels as if there is no one to catch us and take us to our doom, that we will perhaps be free for several hours more.

The hand that clamps on to my shoulder, and the voice that accompanies it, remind me that I have never had luck as good as that. "There you are. We've been looking all over for you Queen Elsa. Your king is most eager to see you."

I do not speak, there is no point. My struggles will go largely ignored. They do not intend to treat me as a human, so I shall not give them anything to fight against. Perhaps if I make this easy for them they will make it easy for me. I doubt such kindness, but cling to it regardless.

The hulking man guides me forward with a pressure on my shoulder. I realize that breathing has slipped my mind and struggle to restart the rhythm. My feet move in compliance with the guard and his, far too large, hand. Anna clings to my side, not letting go of my hand and keeping careful pace with me. I try to make my mouth work. I try to find the voice to tell her to run, to explain that this is my fight, not hers, and that her being here now will not save me and instead put her at even more unnecessary risk.

We enter the castle and make our way through the halls. Silence is the main feature of our walk, I dare not speak, nor does Anna, and our guide does not play out as the chatty kind. He simply stares ahead, one hand still clenched upon my shoulder, and the other resting on the hilt of his sword. Several other men appear from the shadows, they fall in to place beside my guide, flanking Anna and I to ensure that we do not attempt a foolhardy escape.

The hallways seem to stretch out forever in front of us, only ever coming to twists and turns, never to the door which must hide Hans. I am sure that Hans is lurking in a room somewhere, though which one has yet to be seen. The walls, and paintings hanging upon them, are starting to become frighteningly familiar. I have walked this way many times; I must walk it to reach my room. Could Hans be letting me go free? Will I simply be returned to my room?

My familiar door comes in to view with one more corners and I feel almost excited. Relief pours in to my fingertips and toes. My feet move faster and I have to fight back the beginning of a smile. I do not know how, but I must have escaped Hans. Perhaps he is simply sure that I will not do things such as running away again. Perhaps he is still worried about me hurting him with my powers, even with legions of guards protecting him. Regardless, I am too elated for worrying.

"Here you are." The guard informs me as we stop in front of my door. He does not say anything more, not to me. His gaze shifts over to Anna. "You, come with me."

"No." Anna insists without concession.

"Actually, I think you will find that you are, and you can decide whether or not it will be on your feet, or slung over my back." The guard lowers his voice, takes his hand off of my shoulder, and replaces it on Anna's.

Anna turns to me, questions in her eyes. She wants an answer; wants to know where she will be safest. She wants to know where I will be safest. I am starting to doubt the safety of my room, there must be something of sorts within it that will cause me harm, and I do not want Anna to see whatever is about to befall me. I give the slightest of nods, telling her that she can leave, she can do what they ask and we can both hope that it leads to her safety.

I watch as Anna is marched down the hallway by the guard that led me to my room, the remainder of the fleet stay with me, proving that, despite everything, Hans must be the slightest bit worried if he thinks such protection is necessary. I do not try anything. I keep my powers wrapped up as tightly as I can manage. I would not jeopardize Anna by being reckless with my powers. If I were to try anything a fight would break out, and Anna does not have the necessary items to protect herself.

One of the guards seems to grow tired of my standing in front of my door and pushes me forward with a hand and rough words. "Well, get on with it, we have a meeting to get to. It's one of the long ones, the kind where you don't see a bed until noon the next day."

I oblige, being as the guard is rather big and I am rather small. My door pushes open just as it always has, though this time does carry a sense of foreboding. I walk though it just as I always have; in to the darkness within. It is not entirely dark though; there is a flickering of warm light, the flickering of a fire that gives the walls fleeting shadows.

Hans steps from the shadows and the fire casts an orange light on his face. My hand flies to the scar on my chest; this scene is all horribly familiar. Is this what it is to be, more sadistic use of fire and heat? I back away, hoping that I can stroll back though the door and escape this. The door has been closed and is held in place by something, perhaps the guards outside.

"Oh, Elsa, my men have told me the strangest thing." Hanses voice cuts through the air. "Something about you running away? But that's ridiculous, _isn't it_." He strolls over to the mirror, studying his features in silence; letting his words sink though the air while he fixes his hair. "You know better than to think you could get away with something like that, don't you? I don't have to remind you as to why you shouldn't leave the castle, right?"

"No, you don't."

"But I do, don't I? Because, you did try to run away. You thought that you could run off with your sister, that little bitch. And, oh Elsa, that was a big mistake." He walks from the mirror to the fireplace, that damn fireplace. If I ever reach the end of this mess I will have the masons fill it with brick as to stop it from ever burning again. "I think we may have to revisit the punishment from a while ago."

Hans stares in to the flaring embers of the fire, picking up several logs from a stack against the wall, logs he must have brought in himself as I never use the fireplace, and placing them in the fire. He pokes and prods at the embers, bring them to life once again and being sure to bury the poker deep in the heart of the heat where it will gain the power to do its damage. I cannot do this, not again. Pain is awful, the pain of fire even more so. It burns and crackles, melting my skin from my bone and turning my muscles in to charred nothingness.

I panic now; it is a well and true primal panic. I cannot let this happen. This is bad. He might hurt my son; Hans might do something stupid and hurt my son. He might find out about my son, does he already know about my son, about his son? Who could have told him, no one aside from Anna and Grand Pabbie have any idea about my son existing.

"You don't like heat do you sweetie?" Hans asks.

"No, I don't." I know his questions are rhetorical, but I still answer. I have to answer because it is the last way I can rebel, the last way I may trip Hans up, or make him feel weak. I long to make him feel weak the way he has done to me. I wish I could tear him down and hurt him the same way he has hurt me.

"Good." Hans's voice holds none of the false charm of before. "I like hearing the sounds you make and the way you move when you try to get away." He picks up the lantern from my desk and lights it with the fire. "There, it will be so much easier to see your face now."

I try to breathe, but it is getting harder and harder to fight for each breath. Hans is no closer to me, he is back tending to the fire, but it feels as if he is closing in on me. The room feels smaller than it ever has. I worry that it will consume me entirely.

"You look restless, honey, take as seat. It's not like you are going anywhere." Despite Hans's invitation I do not sit. I wait by the door, still wishing that it would swing open and that I would be allowed to escape.

"Are you going to hurt Anna?" I need to know if Anna is in peril. If Anna's safety is at stake I will do everything in my power to ensure that she is kept safe.

"Maybe." Hans muses. "What are you willing to do to persuade me otherwise?"

My silence speaks the volumes I cannot. Anything, I would do absolutely anything to keep Anna safe. Whatever Hans wants, if it keeps Anna from feeling the slightest sting of pain or discomfort, I would do it. She is my sister and I will keep her safe.

Hans seems to decide that the poker is sufficiently hot and takes it from the fire with a gleeful flourish. "There we go, look at that glow, that white-hot glow." Hans studies the color of the metal. "Strange, if you look at it the right way it almost has the same color of snow, but I'm sure you know that they do not feel the same."

I wait in silence, still by the door, still hoping that Hans will have an unexplainable change of heart. He does not. Instead he approaches me with a glint in his eyes and convinces me I will have many more scars for my guests to ignore.

"Sit Elsa, this will be so much easier if you sit." Hans demands.

"If I do, will Anna be safe."

"Safer than she is with you refusing me."

I make my way toward the bed and sit. "Good. Now, would you kindly slip those sleeves down? The skin we cover is always so much more sensitive than the other stuff." I do as Hans says, pushing my sleeves down and leaving my upper torso at his mercy.

"I guess we can start with just that, though you are being a little bit modest today." Hans muses as he waves the poker in front of me. "But I suppose the shoulder will do nicely. And remember, Anna, your mother, and your sisters fiancée are all at stake."

Without pausing for even the briefest of beats Hans whips the rod though the air and presses it against my left shoulder. There are several seconds of nothing, not the slightest bit of pain, but then my body remembers how it works and my arm feels as if it has burst in to flames and is now going to fall off. I clench my jaw and grind my teeth, anything to stop me from screaming, screaming because it hurts so much more this time.

Hans removes the rod and places it back in the fire. I wipe at my eyes, trying to cover up the tears that come with each wave of pain. I dare not look at the blistering fire on my arm, I dare not watch as Hans re-heats the metal. I focus on trying to breathe, needing to breathe.

"I hope that didn't hurt too much sweetie, it's going to get a lot worse." Hans mocks, pulling the rod once again from the fire. "Where shall we leave the mark this time? I suppose that your right arm could use a little bit of attention, we wouldn't want it to feel left out."

Hans takes my hand in his, pulling my arm out, stretching my joints and turning the underside of my forearm to the ceiling. "Make a sound and your sister will be suffering tonight, I promise." With his threat crisp in the air the rod come down on my arm, slicing through the skin with it heat. The scream starts in the pits of my chest, and barrels though my lungs, up my throat, and battles with my tongue, demanding to be let though my mouth and out in to the air.

I win in a slight sense. I do not scream, but tears pool in my eyes and race down my face. The pain is intrusive, working in to every part of my being. I can feel my toes screaming and my left hand clenching around the sheets of my bed. Hans removes the rod, but the pain does not go away, it lingers with a scorching, just as it still does in my left shoulder.

"Your ribcage next, sweetie." Hans calls over his shoulder as he places the rod in to the fire once again. "Roll that dress down, or take it off entirely. It's coming off anyway, whether you like it or not."

In spite of my clouded vision and muddled thoughts I know that I cannot let Hans see my stomach. I cannot take off my dress, and I cannot let Hans force me out of it. Hans is in front of me again, I do not remember him standing up. Is he speaking? I am sure that I can see his mouth moving and his eyes lighting up with anger, but I do not hear him.

Then I cannot see him, then I can see him, and then I cannot see him again. My head feels both heavy and as if it is floating away. I try to move my hands, determined to keep Hans from coming closer to me. He grasps my wrist and forces my arms back to my sides, then slides his hand to where my dress is bunched up under my arms, forcing the fabric farther down my body.

I struggle again, trying to stop Hans, but as I move my arms the pain flares throughout me once again. As the pain crescendos with a wave of agony my vision falls away and so does the rest of the world.

* * *

**I promise next chapter is better for Elsa. This is a catalyst, if you will, to the events that constitute the ending and a whole bunch of action in the next chapter. **

**Let me know what you thought, and I will get a new chapter up for you guys on the 1st. **

**-Whovian123**

**annelise Anna: Thank you for reviewing. I don't know about everyone making it out alive, but I will do what I can. **

**Aggregate Dragon: Thank you. The storm is brewing... **

**musicalocelot: Thank you. Ptsh, Kasper can try and save the day, but these girls don't need no prince. *sassy finger snap* **

**Yulissab02: Thank you. Yes, a lot of action. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. As you now know, that respite was not a long one, but still no less crucial.  
**


	42. Chapter 42

**Hello. How are you? Good. It is a nice day, isn't it. **

**Anywho, I have a new chapter for you here, it is not my favorite, but crucial and the beginning of the true end. Only 6ish chapters to go before the end. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen**

* * *

It hurts, every part of me hurts. I wish I could not feel; that I was simply unable to process anything just to escape the horror of my body rebelling against the torrid pain and raw blisters. My fists clench in a weak attempt to manage. I do not recollect the night previous, I remember Anna and me running out to the town, and I remember us being guided through the castle once we returned, but after that it is simply splotched moments of pain.

I shift, just the slightest of shifts, and the tearing flares up. I clench my fists tighter still. Pain does not last forever, and if I need to wait here for months to see it pass then I will, I intend to, but then I hear his voice.

"Waking up now are we?" Hans muses from somewhere above me. "You were a little disappointing last night, you blacked out after only three little pokes." Hans's voice is closer to my face now. I can feel his breath against my forehead, though I still refuse to open my eyes. "Of course, that wasn't what stopped me." It is at this point that I realize my dress is pulled down to my hips and tangled about in my legs. "It was another thing entirely that stopped me."

I want to ask, I want to know what he knows. His voice is frightening. He feels he holds power. Why does he feel he holds power? My mouth decides that it can now work. "Did you hurt Anna?" That is the most important question. I need to know if Anna is ok, that comes before me. I need to know.

"Maybe, probably not. You will not be permitted to ask her though; in fact I doubt you will ever be permitted to speak with her again." Hans informs me. "Now, to the matter at hand, when were you going to tell me that you are pregnant?"

Any trace of grogginess falls from my mind like lead to the floor. All thought is replaced with terror. Who told Hans? Who could have told Hans? He does not know to ask Grand Pabbie, and I know that Anna would never tell him. My dress, of course, he didn't have to be told, he saw. He saw, and now he knows. What is he going to do with me?

"Please," I plead. "Don't hit me. Just let me be." I feel weak, so weak. I am begging, pleading, with Hans to not hurt me anymore. I cannot take it, and I know our son cannot either. Would he risk the life of his child?

"Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you." Hans coos from above me. I can hear the creaking of my bed as he settles on to it. "I would never hurt you, don't you know that Elsa?" Hans takes his hand and runs his fingers though my hair, over and over again, pushing it from my face, smoothing it back and exposing my shut eyes. "Open your eyes sweetie; I want you to look at me."

I do not open my eyes.

"Please, please, just stop." I beg. It takes all of my strength to not swat Hans's hands away from my face. They are intrusive and painful, they remind me that I have no say in anything, and that despite my pleading, Hans will ignore me.

"Elsa, open your eyes." Hans's voice us harsh now; it grates against my ears and cuts at the open sores on my body. I wish I could curl up in to myself and stop exiting in this space, with this body, this body has done nothing but betray me.

"No." I cannot give Hans this, this one stupid thing. I need to keep this from him.

His fingers tighten around my hair and he starts to pull, forcing my head back, stretching out my neck. I hear the slight rustling of sheets and then the tang of metal against my neck, metal that is not hot. "Elsa, I trust you remember what this is like when it is hot, there are memories of it all over your body, so I suggest you open your eyes."

"No." I feel my powers swelling and beating against the wall of my skin.

"Fine." Hans presses the metal further in to my skin. "But you best know that I will not be letting you out of this room. You are going to carry that child in here, and you are going to birth it in here, and then I am going to kill you in here." Hans whispers the last words directly in to my ears.

"Please, let Anna take care of him. He will need a mother, it doesn't have to be me, let Anna love him." I need my son to be loved. I need him to know that there is more than just the abuse that follows Hans. I need him to remember that there is always a sunrise, and that midnight is fleeting.

"Elsa, Elsa, Elsa. No, you will be lucky if your little sister makes it to next week." Hans explains, drawing the metal along my throat, back and forth, sawing at my flesh, but not breaking it. "You have given me all I need, now it's just a matter of waiting, and I do not need a wildcard like your sister around while I wait."

I open my eyes. "No. You can't. I haven't done anything, you can't hurt Anna."

"Yes I can, and I will. Anna and your mother will be getting quite the shock in the coming days. Not to mention the useless oaf Kristoff." Hans is taunting me; he is mocking how powerless I am. That there is nothing I can do to stop this.

"No, no you can't." How I have found the strength to be angry is beyond me, but I am. I am angry and going to do something about this. I will not let Hans kill any more people. He has done enough damage and I refuse to let him cause anymore.

I pull at my powers, willing them to do something, to do anything. They are there, I can feel them. I can feel the ice in my fingers and the wind in my breath, but I am exhausted. I cannot properly focus on anything, and the pain will not go away. The pain persists and grows every time I try to so much as shift.

There is ice crawling along the metal against my neck. I can feel is encasing the rod, reaching for Hans, so close to him that he pulls back his hand as if bitten. "Oh no, you are not getting away with anything like that." Hans removes himself from my bed. "I shall be taking my leave, I have a meeting to get to, I need my men to be fully aware of your situation and in which way they are allowed to treat you."

I watch Hans leave through the door, then I hear him tell the men outside that half of them are to go with him, and the other half are to keep me in my room. How many men followed me in? I need to remember, I need to know how many men stand in between me and Anna. How many men I will have to overpower, for I need to go to Anna. I need to keep Anna safe. She is the last mark of my success. If I can keep Anna safe, then in so strange twisted way I can win.

I focus on taking deep breaths, on trying to blot out the pain with anything that I can. I make the mistake of standing up. Everything is sore, and everything is burning. I breathe, low and slow, letting the pain rush out with my breath. My fingers clench in and out of fists, willing the pain to leave me with the rushed of winter air that streams from my palms.

The fire is still roaring in my fireplace. Hans must have left it as a warning, or a reminder, as if the scars and blisters are not warning enough.

I collapse in to the chair that sits opposite my bed, the lantern is still burning to. It burns a slow and low light that I shy away from.

I need to save Anna, and I need strength. In order to save Anna I need strength. Strong, she is so strong, but I worry that she will not be strong enough to beat Hans. I need to save her, of at the very least warn her that Hans will be coming for her next. I cannot think of anything else.

My feet are weak and jittery against the ground, but I stand regardless. Nothing else matters now, not me, I just need to save Anna. I need to save whoever I can. I need to make Hans hurt and I need to win in some small worthless way. So I walk, or rather, stumble, my way toward the door. I lean against it, my ear pressed to the wood, and listen for the guards waiting outside. Their voices are muffled though the door, but undeniable.

I cannot sneak past them, not like this. I can hardly stand, much less evade what must be, at least, six full grown, trained, men. I do not have the strength to fight them, I am not sure I can muster up the power.

My hands start to shake and I look wildly though the things in my room. It is so bear, so empty, void of anything useful in the slightest. The poker is resting on the desk, next to the lantern. Hans must have placed it there, meaning for it to taunt me.

I grab it and banish it though the air. I hit the desk, whipping it with the metal, needing the rubbish fire poker to break. A scream tears from my throat, breaking in to world just as the metal poker, now covered in thin webs of ice, shatters in my hands.

The sharp shards fall across the ground, scattering under my desk and under my bed. I am left staring at my fingers, my empty hands, still grasping at the ghost of the poker, gripping the space it had been in. Then I am looking at the tears falling from my face. They fall on to my hands, and I am too broken to wipe them away.

I cry and I lash out at the world around me, I scream and wail, needing this to stop. My hands shoot a wave of ice and snow at the fire place, stopping its heat from consuming me. I flail, looking for something to break, for something to rip. Anything to distract for the pain and the hopelessness.

I take the lantern, still burning, from my desk. The flame flickers and waves, threatening to go out as I let cold leak from my fingers. In a moment of what must be insanity, I hurl the lantern against my wall.

It catches on a tapestry and the flames leak from the lantern to the fabric. I watch as it crawls up the tapestry and begin to panic. It does not stop as I hoped it would, it persists and starts to char the wall.

The heat is building and I can feel it like a wall against my skin. It keeps pushing, and pushing, the fire is taking to the wall now, devouring my door and panicking me. I cannot think, but my powers do react, ice pools around my feet and snow starts to fall, but not fast enough, the fire is spreading and I cannot stop it. I did not anticipate fire holding such immediate power.

Panicked shouts are sounding from outside my door; the guards must have notice that the wall is being engulfed in flame. One of them has opened what remains of my door and is shouting at me. I cannot tell whether it is accusations, or requests to escape what is quickly becoming a fiery tomb. He waves his hands at my confusion and beckons me away from the flames.

I do not question him; he must be under orders to keep me and, by extension, my child safe. I summon my courage and take a breath before bolting through the door, willing my winter to be enough to keep us safe.

It proves to be stronger than I realize. The fire does not touch me; it parts around me, pushed away by whatever defense my body has conjured up. The, previously yelling, guard is quick to put his arms around me, keeping me from running to where ever he thinks I could run off to. As if I have anywhere to run.

The man calls for help, but the rest the guard is on the other side of an increasingly formidable wall of flame. The hand clasped to my wrist and the arm around my chest do not seem as strong as they had, they feel weak and feeble now that I know it is just me against this one man.

My hands tingle as I struggle and thrash around. I can feel the ice leaving my body and crawling along the guards. His calls change and soon he is shouting in alarm at the ice that is crawling along his fingers. He releases his hold on me and stares in horror and the gloves of ice his hands have taken on.

I do not pause to consider the ice, or the fire, or the wrath of Hans and his insanity. I run as fast as I ever have, or maybe just a little faster than that. I let the walls melt away and I stampede though corridors, knowing that I have to get to Anna, and then to my mother. Hans is not here right now, not with me. He is somewhere talking with his men about what I will be allowed to do while I grow him a child. I laugh at, and revel in, the freedom I feel and the need to be reckless.

If the guard is thinned out then I may stand a chance. None of the men, or Hans, will be expecting me to have any fight left after the ordeal I have been though, and they will have little reinforcement to draw upon if the revelations regarding my condition cause confusion and meetings about regulation. For the first time in far too long I entertain the idea of wining.

* * *

**Let me know what you thought with a review. **

**I am still toying with a sequel, lemme know if you think its a good or bad idea. **

**I'll have a new chapter up on the 6th. **

**-Whovian123**

**Loridhhp: Thank you. I'm sorry if I caused any grief. Elsa will be taking control back very soon. I'm not going to tell you how it works out though. **

**Aggregate Dragon: Thank you. Bingo! Yes he did find out! And bad things will follow! **

**musicalocelot: Thank you. At least Elsa got to break the poker. Lets hope she gets to break other things later... ;) **

**JAnderws557: Ohhh, a new reader. It's always fun to get someone fresh. Thank you for the complements. There may or may not be spine removal coming up in three chapters. **

**bexmad: Thank you. I think we can expect "mama bear" mode to crop up soon. Aint no one messin with Elsa's baby.  
**


	43. Chapter 43

**Hello mates, I know last chapter was not all that long, and this chapter is not either, but I have a feeling it is still worth it...**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own frozen. **

* * *

Anna's room is not far, but the fact the smoke follows me makes me sure it is farther than it has ever been. I had not expected the fire to take hold the way it has. When I threw the lantern it was impulsive and reckless, but it should not have had repercussions such as this. Too much of the castle is made of wood, the shell is stone, but the walls of the inside are veined with wood. Wood that is now acting as a fuse throughout my castle, burning everything and spreading everywhere.

I come to a stumbling halt as I pass Anna's room. I wrench the door again and again, hating that it has been locked. Has Hans locked it, leaving Anna bleeding and alone inside? Has Anna been naive enough to think that a lock would keep Hans away? I scream against the furry of the locked door and squeeze the smoke fueled tears from my eyes.

My hands become the conduit to my rage and ice flows from my skin to the brass of the doorknob. The metal freezes and with an aggressive tug is breaks away from the door and shatters, destroying the mechanism and releasing the lock.

The door swings open and I see Anna standing in the far side of her room, armed with a poker for her fireplace. She is shaking, but keeps her shoulders square and her head held high. We stop for a moment, neither of us aware of what should come next.

"Anna." I can no longer stand in silence, all too aware that my window of opportunity is closing. "Are you hurt?"

"Why is there smoke?" Anna stares of the thick black cloud spilling across her ceiling. "Why are you covered in burns?" Her gaze flicks back to me. "Who burned you? Why did they burn you?"

She does not move, her eyes simply grow wider as she takes in the extent of my injuries. She continues to blurt out questions, many of which are simply repetition. I break from the doorway and rush toward her. She lets me pry the poker from her hands and keeps asking me about my burns.

"Hans was angry." I explain. "He is always angry, and he knows… he knows about my son. This has to end. Anna, this is ending. Now please, please, tell me; has he hurt you?"

Anna shakes her head. "He hasn't been here yet. The guards took me here, and they locked me in, keep watch at the door. They waited throughout the night, not saying anything, I was so worried. I didn't sleep, not for a moment. A few minutes ago they started coughing and yelling about a fire. They ran, they are scared Elsa, and they are not as loyal as Hans may have hoped, they ran without orders, they ran to save themselves. These men may not be loyal to us, but they are not loyal to Hans." Her face beams as she recounts the guards and their cowardice.

"You mean to say that they are scattered and without leadership?"

"Yes."

"Anna." I repeat her name with ever-growing volume and joy. "Anna, Anna, Anna. We have to get to the boat. The ship, we can save them, we have to be able to save them."

"Them, them!" Anna exclaims. "Who is 'them' Elsa? Who are we saving aside from Kristoff? Who is on that boat?" She is desperate now, beyond what she ever has been. The room is filling with more and more smoke and I can see guests charging though the hallways, fighting to get out before the flames catch them.

"Outside, Anna, I promise I will tell you once we are safe and outside." Without waiting for an answer I grasp her hand and haul her out of the room and through the maze of hallways until the air feels clean and I can breathe without the fight. I keep running, past the gossiping group of guests and through the main gates, gates which have been abandoned by guards, or simply were not being guarded as I was assumed 'to weak' to try anything reckless.

Guards may be fewer than they have ever been, but I know that Hans will not have left Kristoff and my mother without protection. I still have people standing in the way of me and my mother, people standing between me and my family. These are people that I can beat though. I am not scared of them because I can win. I have to win and I will.

I pull Anna across the bridge and in to town. There are market stalls being opened and a fair number of early risers standing startled at the smoke leaking from several of the castle windows, and at their royals gasping for breath and tearing thrpugh the town.

Anna stops me from running out on to the docks and pulls me in to an ally. "Who are we saving? I have to know, Elsa, I will not set foot on that boat without knowing who else is there."

"Our mother." The truth slips out. It rolls in to the world far easier than I ever expected it could. It as if my mouth and lungs know that the end of all the secrets and lies is beginning and are determined to keep momentum. I see Anna's eyes widen as the words slice through the gritty chill of the winter morning. She gulps wide-mouthed gasps, similar to what I have seen of fish, and grasps my shoulders.

"What. Elsa." Her hands are shaking against my arms. "You cannot possibly mean… How? How, if this is true, did it come to be?" Anna has tears sliding down her face now, but her voice does not break. "I need to know."

"Their boat did sink; it was torn apart by the will of the ocean; but there was wreckage, wreckage that could float. Our mother and father drifted though the storm, eventually they washed ashore in the Southern Isles. Hans found them… He knew who they were, and he knew that they would be a useful acquisition. He locked them away and kept them safe, he used them as a sort of 'insurance' to keep his chances of gaining our throne even though he had been exposed. When he was sent away it was as simple as retrieving them, coming back, and using the men he had planted in the guard to keep things from unraveling."

"Our father… Elsa, is our father on the boat to?" Anna's voice is filled with hope, a hope that slices and stabs at my heart.

"No." I cannot lie, not ever again. Lying has done me no good, not ever in my life. I will be honest about our father, and honest about his death.

"But… Our mother is…"

"Yes."

Anna falls against the wall of the ally, deciding that she cannot stand a moment longer. She slides to the ground and pulls her knees in to her chest and covers her face with her arms. I hear her gasping for air and primal sobs, of the uncontrollable kind, break from her throat.

I crouch down in front of her, knowing that this is too much to handle all at once, but also knowing that the window in which we can win is small, and getting more so by the minute. "Anna." I push her hair away from her face. "Anna, I know that this is scary, I know that this doesn't make any sense, but, Anna, you have to trust me when I say has to happen now. Kristoff and our mother need us… and I need your help."

Anna does not speak; at this moment I do not believe her to be capable of such. I squeeze her shoulder and stand, resolved to do what I can by myself. I will not force Anna to function, not now. I walk to the mouth of the ally way, though keeping sure that I am cloaked by shadow as not to catch the attention of passerby's.

"Wait." I turn to see Anna uncurling from the ground and staggering back to her feet. "I am your sister, and I am not going to let you do this alone."

"Thank you." My voice is small, and I hope Anna knows just how much she means, because I will not be able to ever explain to her just how grateful I am for her. "Have you done much work with a sword?"

"Not as much as I should have."

"Can you look menacing?"

Anna lets out a watery chuckle. "Yes, of course."

I survey the boat; there are several guards littered everywhere, four on the dock, two at the door to the belly of the boat, and one sleeping by the steering wheel. "I don't know how this is going to work; I will do my best to stop them with my powers. Someone has to drop a sword or a knife or something at some point. Just, make sure you are safe. Please, please, don't do anything reckless."

"Elsa, you're the one with a baby on the way." Anna says. "We both have a lot at stake, and we will both fight this together."

"Ok."

We step out of the shadows and I start stirring my powers. As we approach the dock the guards begin to take notice of us, the four on the dock draw their swords and call out to us as we draw closer. "You are not permitted outside of the castle."

"There was an accident in the castle, a little spot of fire." I surprise myself with how strong my voice sounds. It nearly scares me, but I am proud of it. It does not leave room for questioning, though the guards do challenge that premise.

"You are not permitted near this ship, take no further steps and we will escort you back to your castle." The guard grips his sword tighter still as I refuse to stop walking forward.

I can feel the ice beneath my feet. It is not the ice of winter, this ice belongs to me. I have control of this and I will not let it slip away. Thick sheets of ice stretch out ahead of Anna and I, snaking under the boots of the guards and leaving then on false footing.

Snow starts to fall, and I cast my gaze to the sky for the briefest of seconds. Light wisps of cloud have swirled together to form a dense mass overhead. The cloud rests only over the dock and the ship, not passing the invisible border in to town and to the many innocents that could be in harm's way.

Frigid whips of ice and wind uncurl from my hands as I banish them forward. The guards stagger, now adequately scared of me and what I am liable to do. Though they do keep their bravo and continue to shout out an increasing amount of insults and empty threats.

We come to a halt several meters from them. Anna looks at me, and I look back at her. We do not say anything, but I do take Anna's hand in mine.

"Have you come to your senses witch?" The guard continues with his insults. "Will you bow down now, freak?" His voice wavers as Anna and I do not feed in to his rage.

"Anna," my voice is whispered for only Anna to hear, "nothing dangerous, promise me you will keep yourself safe."

"Only if you do the same." Anna insists.

"I promise."

"I promise too."

I drink in the air, savouring the several moments left before this stillness breaks. This horrible stillness that weighs in the air as the guards clench their swords and the castle smoulders behind us. Sound stops working, I can hear the guard speaking, and shouting, but it does not sound as it should. The cloud over the boat begins to open and release the beings of a fresh blanket of snow.

"Freak, witch, what are you doing?" The guard is scared now, he has noticed the cloud and the snow drifting from it.

I speak with more truth that I have in months. Stress that I was not aware of melts from my shoulders, my chest feels light, and the air stings my lungs in the most reassuring way. "Rescuing my mother."

* * *

**Well? What did you think? I dunno how I felt... Leave a review? I am very excited about next chapter though, some fighting, I haven't done much writing for fighting before. It's going to be interesting to hear the feedback. **

**I'll have a new chapter up on the 11th. **

**-Whovian123**

**Aggregate Dragon: Thank you, it was a little short, this one as well, but next one is huge, so yeah. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Elsa's on a bit of an empowerment trip, so the next few chapters are going to be fun.  
**

**musicalocelot: Thank you. Many things have yet to be broken, with time Elsa will get to break them all. Hans is going to be hard pressed to find his way out of this mess. **


	44. Chapter 44

**Hello all, this one is longer, as promised.**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

The stillness in the air breaks. My statement hangs with far to much weight attached, and then it sends the guard in to a rage. He screams some sort of battle cry and charges toward Anna and me. He makes it several feet before I raise my hand, the one not tangled in Anna's fingers, and send a wall of snow and winter air toward him sending him spiraling toward the fjord.

His sword falls from his hands, clatters on to the wood of the dock, and then is stampeded on by the other three guards, now sprinting, on the dock. I throw a wall of ice at the ground, keeping the guards from us, and keeping myself from hurting them.

"You can leave." I beg with the guards to relent. "I will let you go; you can leave and be spared. Just stop this now. You cannot beat ice, ice will win every time." I do not want to fight. I need to win, but I do worry that I will hurt one of these men in a way that cannot be undone. I do not want to kill, but I worry that I will.

"IT CANNOT BE WINTER FOREVER." The guard shouts at me through the thick ice, the thick ice that I now let melt away. One of the guards runs forward and is cast in to the fjord by a quick flick of my hand. The other two guards watch me, tracking my slow steps toward the boat.

An arrow flies past me; the men on the boat have tired of waiting for me to reach them and have started to bombard me with the weapons at their disposal. The two guards left on the dock hang far away from me, reluctant to leave the safety that being near the ship offers.

"This will be your last chance." I shout at the guards. "I will not back down, but you still can."

The guards look weary, for several seconds I do believe that they will relent and rescuing my mother will prove to be easier than I ever dared hope. They do not yield though. The guards on the dock grip their swords and give them fierce banishes, trying to look brave. The guards on the boat ready their arrows and take aim at Anna and I.

They do not wait as I had hoped, they release their arrows and the guards with swords in hand begin to charge. A simple wave of my hand sends a gust of wind at the arrows, knocking them off their path to my heart and into the fjord. The guards pose more of a challenge, they are too close to me, to close to use my powers without risking their death.

The first to reach me swings his sword in an arch ending at my head. I throw my arm up and let ice seep in to his blade. It shatters as I leap out of its path, and leave it to connect with the wood of the dock. The poor man stands staring at the handle still in his hand and little shards of metal littering the ground.

Anna acts faster than I knew should could and runs in to the man, knocking him over and tugging the dagger he had in his belt in to her hand. She then keeps him on the ground by pinning his arms and showing him what steel feels like against ones throat.

The last guard on the dock stabs at me with his sword; I wave a long spine of ice in to my hand and deflect the blow, saving myself by seconds. The man is undeterred by my icy weapon and lunges again, and again, gritting his teeth harder still with each deflected blow. He has impossibly sure footing on the ice I lay down, hoping that he will slip, but being disappointed again and again.

He thrusts forward and I swipe my foot under his leg to send the poor man sprawling across the wooden dock. I flick away another volley of arrows and call to Anna, making sure that she is ok. She calls back and I relax in the slightest of fashions.

"If I let you go are you going to hurt me, or are you going to leave and not come back?" I ask of the guard I have pinned to the ground. "There are a lot of scared guests waiting outside of the castle that need to be kept calm."

"No, I can't. I have to keep you from her." The guard insist that he be yet another person standing between me and my mother. I push him off the dock and in to the fjord with the other two guards, they can swim back to shore, as long as they are not back soon enough to stop me.

Anna sends the back of her dagger to the others guards head, knocking him out. The guards on the ship are still sending arrow after arrow. They look nervous, I do not want to hurt them, but their nerves do not seem to be making them as skittish as I had hoped. My display of throwing the others in to the fjord should have made them run, or at least caused them to surrender, but they are far more dedicated than I had thought. It makes sense, I suppose, for Hans to put the guards most dedicated to him where the most important things are kept.

I send a wall of frozen air toward the boat, hoping to send up a storm of waves and knock the guards off balance long enough to overtake them. They do stumble, and to boat does rock, but they are far more nimble than I had thought and manage to keep upright. I have no choice but to charge.

They release yet another volley of arrows as I run; a volley which is knocked in to the water by another wave of my arm. I can hear Anna behind me, screaming about something, but it is not important. I need to get to these men before they can send another round of arrows toward me.

My powers fill with a will all its own. A frost spreads, and seeps, across the wood of the boat, building a layer of ice that worries me. I know that control is no longer mine. Control has been replaced with instinct and reflex. The first guard goes flying as I board the boat, I am not sure why he is now in the water, but I know that it must be my fault.

I see more arrows, arrows that are inches from my face, but caught in a sheet of ice. I do not pause to count the remaining guards; they will not be on the boat long enough to matter. Anna's red hair flashes past me, she darts toward another guard, tackling him before he can draw an arrow, or let out a strangled yelp.

My hands are working of their own accord as I pick up a duo of archers at the bow of the boat and throw them through the air in to the fjord.

"Elsa." Anna calls my name. "Elsa, help!" I whirl around to see Anna standing by four men, two unconscious and two circling her with swords. I push a guard to my left from the boat with a quick flick of my wrist, and then sprint to help Anna.

"Let her go. Please, don't hurt her." I spew every kind of plea there is. My words fall on ignorant ears as the first guard lunges, takes Anna's attention, and then lets the second guard wrap his arm around her waist, pinning her arms down, and bringing his sword to her throat. The first guard wrenches the dagger from Anna's hand, and stomps against the deck of the boat three times, signaling to whoever is still in the boat that help is needed.

"Don't move, witch." The guard holding Anna says. "If you move she dies, I promise you she will die. I will kill her, I will enjoy killing her. Do not test me." The blade against Anna's skin digs further in, not yet drawing blood, but far too near for me to remember how to breathe.

"Anything you want. I promise, I will do anything." I do not spend a moment disagreeing, I cannot put Anna in danger like that. "I will do it, just please, she doesn't deserve this."

"Elsa." Anna tries to speak, but finds that each syllable sends the guards sword deeper in to her neck. I look to her eyes, hoping that the words trapped within her will have found solace there. She is scared, I am scared to, but she is being strong.

The other guard decides that I cannot remain where I am and starts to push me nearer and nearer the railing of the ship with his sword. "You," he instructs, "will be taking a nice swim back to shore if you want your sister to be around for next week."

There is not a moment of doubt in my mind. I will jump in to the fjord if that is what will save Anna. I will do it faster than the guards can see, but I pause. Anna is strong, and so brave. I want to save her, I need to save her, but I also need to save our mother. I need a way to save both of them. Hans has confirmed my worst fear; he knows everything and is going to kill both Anna and my mother whenever he decides to make an appearance.

"Anna." I call back to my sister, needing to keep these guards talking or distracted while I think.

"NO." The first guard takes my bait and jumps at the chance to tell me what I can, and cannot, do. "You don't talk, not another word out of you. You take this ice away," he gestures around him at the frosted boat, "and then you leave to find Hans."

"But, if I swim then how do you know I am going to go back to the castle. You have me now, why would you get rid of me?" I ask, hoping that Anna is better under pressure than I am.

"Because you have witch magic. Your power is a foul thing that we do not want in our home." The second guard is ranting now. "You are a witch, a destructive witch. I saw what you did to this land during the eternal winter. I do not want you spreading your power. You could have everything. You will take everything. Han told us about your plan. We know that you want to reign over all the world, and we will not let you." The poor man, Hans has fed him lies of all sorts, lies that I know to be such, but have no way of proving to the guard.

"I am sorry." I pray that the guards can one day find it in themselves to trust that I want nothing more than peace, because the way in which my instincts are taking over is not peaceful. I bring my palms forward and cast the second guard over the railing of the ship with a horrid winter wind that stings the skin. Anna reacts quicker than I could have hoped, stomping her heel in the foot of the other guard, and jamming her elbow in to his stomach as he doubles over.

She breaks free from his grasp, and I lurch forward, knocking the man to the ground and ramming my fist in to the side of his head. It stings and burns as the flesh on my knuckles turns ragged and bloody, but I cannot stop. He hurt Anna; he was going to kill Anna. I cannot shake the image of her with a sword to her throat from my mind.

I feel hands on my shoulder, hands that are trying to pull me off of the, now unconscious, man. I fight the hands, knowing that they can mean no good. I bat at them and will them to freeze. Then my eyes focus and my ears stop rushing with blood and anger. "Elsa." Anna pleads. "Let him go. It's ok, I am ok. He is not going to hurt me."

My chest is rising and falling with too much vigor. I cannot breathe fast enough. I am trapped, and enveloped, in myself. Everything is ice. I have to save Anna. I cannot let anyone near Anna. She is talking; Anna is saying something, but I cannot hear her over the rushing in my head.

Anna's eyes are worried. I anchor myself to them; to her. She is there and she will be for a while longer. She is pulling me in to a hug, a hug which I reciprocate. I cling to her tighter than I ever have. She is alive and I will keep her so.

"Elsa, we have to keep going, there must be more guards in the boat. We have to keep going. Please, listen, we have to keep going." Anna implores that I keep myself together. I need to stay in one piece until we have freed our mother. I need to make sure, what remains of, my family is safe.

"Ok." I struggle to get full words out. "What now? In the boat, yes. Mother was inside, Kristoff will be too. We have to get them before they get hurt." I stumble toward the door, trying to keep myself upright, yet failing miserably.

Anna takes my shoulders and pulls me away from disaster, forcing me to evaluate the situation. It is not wise to go barrelling in to whatever lay behind that door unprepared. I need to calm down. I need to think about doing this an efficiently as possible. Hans will be here soon, it will not take him long to realize that I am not in the crowd of scared royals waiting beside the smoking castle. I hope there is some remaining wing of the castle to return to after this, if there is an after this.

Hans could board the boat at any moment. He could sneak up behind me and slip a blade between my ribs before I could shout for Anna. I need to free my mother and Kristoff before Hans realizes just how horribly he has messed up.

"How many do you think are through there?" Anna points to the door. "Guards, how many guards?"

"I don't know." I try to remember how many guards I saw last time I was here. There must be more with Kristoff down there as well. "Maybe, ten. The last time I was here things were very different. And Hans has been strange lately, he could have gotten cocky and left only two, or he could have become paranoid and added twenty."

"It doesn't matter." Anna decides. "We can win. We are an unstoppable force of right. We will win because that is the only option." Anna tugs at the sword in the unconscious guard's hand. She grips the pommel and holds it up. "Is it menacing enough?" She asks with an exaggerated snarl.

"Perfect." I offer Anna once final smile before wrenching open the door to the bowels of the boat. There are no guards poised in the opening, readying to launch themselves at us and prevent me from reaching my mother. Though there is the faintest of voices drifting along the hall. There are guards, we just cannot see them yet.

I motion for Anna to follow behind me, and then start down the hallway, trying to keep the walls from frosting and the wood from creaking. My feet feel like lead, dragging across the ground. Anna does not make a sound, I am tempted to turn around and see if she is still, in fact, behind me and breathing.

There is a flight of stairs leading down that pose a challenge as every step is old and squeaky. We manage though, and we come to a corner with many shadows flitting about on the walls in front of us. The stairs may have been difficult, but the guards will be harder. Hans would not chance leaving the last line of defense to ill prepared guards.

When I glance back to check on Anna her face is reassuring. She nods a long slow nod and her fist pulls tighter around the pommel of her stolen sword. We can do this. We have to do this and I will not give myself a moment to doubt.

My soul starts to stir. A level of winter begins to rise that I have never known. Ice seeps up from the grain in the wood, flooding the ground and coating the walls. I can hear the guards growing confused, they murmur and curse, wondering why it is cold and why the walls have frosted.

I can feel the bolts of ice hiding in the flesh of my palm, waiting just out of reality to spring forward and save me from what may lie behind that corner.

Then I jump.

The world slows remarkably. Everything is stalled, as if caught in syrup. Time itself has been trapped in sap and is struggling to be free. I can see the faces of each guard, all seven of them, far fewer than I had expected, but still enough to fill the narrow hallway. Each face is calm for a moment, and then they see me and they realize who I am and why I must be here. The eyebrows all raise, the mouths fall open, and their hands reach for swords.

I send a rush of biting air down the hallway, knocking several of the men off balance, but doing little to deter the others. Anna and I become not much more than a frenzy of movement and terror. Missing blades by seconds and trying to gain the elusive upper hand when we are so crucially outnumbered. I knock down several men with a shower of ice shards to the face, and then shove my weight in to the side of a man looming over Anna.

There is blood, not a lot, but it stands out against the pearly white of the frosted floor. I cannot tell if it is mine, Anna's, of one of the guards. I do not feel a wound, I do not feel anything. I am as a shadow, floating around the world, only existing just enough to be seen, I cannot be touched.

Guard after guard is thrown to the ground; some of them going down without much effort, on fluke, many others take careful, yet quick, steps to defeat. I have a dagger, I do not know whose is was, but it is firm in my hand and slick with blood, again, I know not whose.

The last guard charges at me. I try to step to the side, but I find that the wall is rather unwilling to let such a thing happen. The guard catches me in the right shoulder; his sword slices a long straight gash just above where my burn is still blistering, thought there is little blood and the cut is shallow. I jerk against the pain and flail my dagger though the air. The blade comes against warm flesh and I shove as hard as I can, as if beating this man will make the festering pain stop.

A hear the man scream and turn to see my dagger buried deep in his thigh. I let go of the handle and watch the guard sink to the floor, pale as he stares, transfixed, at the blood leaking around the blade. He will not be getting up; I doubt his ability to stand.

I look around the hallway, finding that the guards have all been incapacitated by ice, and steel. Anna is standing by a man slumped against the wall, her daggers pommel still against his head, and blood still seeping from a gash on his forehead, from fist or blade I do not know.

"Anna." I feel so horribly out of breath. "Anna. We have to move fast, Hans will be here soon." I am pulling at her shoulder now, trying to get her eyes to lose the graze they have taken on.

It works. "Yes." She agrees. "Kristoff, Mother, they need us, where are they?" She looks around with the urgency of a startled animal. Doors line the walls, Anna opens every one of them, panic growing on her face as she comes to realize that each on is empty of captives.

I listen, knowing that we will either hear nothing, the sound of additional guards, or Kristoff and our mother shouting for help. There are broken murmurs that drift up from the corridor. Farther along there is someone and I do not think a guard would have waited so long to bother challenging Anna and I.

It must be our mother. I meet Anna's gaze, her eyes wide and full of hope and excitement. Without a second to pause or a word of any kind we both tear down the corridor, racing to get to our mother faster than the world will allow.

* * *

**Really not sure how to feel about this one. Let me know what you think with a review. **

**Next chapter will be up on the 16th.**

**-Whovian123**

**burningbridges42: Thank you. Yes, karma does have a way of making things work out, Hans may have to pay so dues. **

**summer loving snowman:Thank you. I'm super excited too. Each chapter makes the end feel so close. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Intense is right, let me know how I do with that part, it is not my forte. **

**musiclocelot: Thank you. I dunno man, some people might be dead, some people might be alive... **


	45. Chapter 45

**Hello, I think you are going to be excited for this one. Not allll that much goes down, but what does is pretty major. **

**-Whovian123**

* * *

The door is locked, but I can hear her. I can hear both of them. Kristoff, and our mother, they are in there, and they are both alive. I was worried that Hans truly had killed my mother without telling me. It would have made sense for him to eliminate the liability, perhaps he had had a plan for her, not that it matters in the slightest because I am here now, freeing her, and Hans is nowhere to be seen.

There is no key to be seen either. I shout to the muffled voices through the door, letting them know that we are here, and that they are safe. I hope they can hear me better than I can them. Anna is beating at the door, thundering her fists against the dirty old wood that is far too strong, the wrought iron bracing cuts at my hands as I push against the door.

The more I push the more I panic. I do not know where the keys are, but I worry that they are with Hans. If we cannot break this door down then we will find ourselves once again at the mercy of Hans, and I doubt he will be as kind as to let those I care for be spared once again. It is now or not at all. I have to get rid of this door.

I push once again; harder still, throwing my everything in to it, and then the frost starts to creep along the grain. I harness the cold and give it life with my fingers, letting it fall out of me and in to the door. This needs to freeze, once adequately frozen anything will shatter. It is as flower petals that become glass like in texture after the first frozen night of the winter.

Anna is still shouting through the door, her hysterics growing as the patch of ice around my hands does the same. We as so close, yet Hans could round the corner and end this all in an instance. He could stroll along with his ever so casual malice, and demand that this end. He would have me thrown in to my bedroom and kept there until his son it born. I need to break this door down.

The wood is frozen through, I can feel it, but the iron is resisting, it is battling with me. I refuse to lose. I push with all I have, I feel my burns searing, and my muscles rebelling, and I use all of it. Everything I have, and everything I am is being pushed in to this absurdly sturdy door.

Then, it gives.

Snaps and creaks jump from the door as the iron shatters like glass and the wood cracks down the middle. Anna beats the door with renewed vigor, and I let a wall of wind force itself against the door. The voices are clearer now, they are all but distinct. Kristoff lets out deep booming calls, and a far more feeble woman's voice fills the moments in which Kristoff stops to breathe.

My hands tremble as I listen to my mother's voice. Never has there been a better sound. This was the voice I craved every time I lost control. She made those moments of terror and fragility moments of strength and resolve. She was a beacon of sanity every time I felt mine slipping away. I am fighting to have her back. Maybe, just this once, Anna and I can be the beacon in the pool of insanity. We can bring her back to the world just as she has done us.

The wood gives in slight painful inches. It will not shatter as I had hoped, instead it splinters and bends. I do not stop though. To stop now would be to throw away the awful things I have done. It would be to give Hans everything and ask for naught in return. I need this. I need to win because the thought of Hans doing so brings a lurching sensation to my stomach.

Anna takes her dagger, warns me to move, and then sends it hurdling in to the wood by the lock in the door. It is embedded to the hand guard and Anna twists in a frantic motion, pulling away bits of wood and exposing a hole. Then she does it again, and again, trying to build a hole large enough to do proper damage to the structural integrity.

The door lets out a long low groan and then the wood starts to give way. Anna drops her dagger, and shoves her shoulder in to the door as I push with my hands, still doing all I can with ice. The door falls away, coming straight off its hinges. Anna and I both fall in to the room and end up and exhausted heap on the floor.

I scramble back to my feet, pulling Anna with me. Kristoff is chained to the far wall, and fighting against his restraints, stretching the chains as far as they can go. Our mother is slumped in the corner, far paler than I last saw her, and staring at us.

Anna staggers forward before me. She runs first to Kristoff, and then further in the room to our mother. She wrestles with the chains and I wrestle with the closeness of our victory. We are in, we can see them, and we can speak to them. I know that I am crying, and know that I should be helping Anna with the shackles, but I am rooted to the spot as I try to take in air.

"Elsa." Anna voice is that of desperate hysterics. "I can't break the chains, please, I need ice."

I break from my spot in the door way and lurch forward to help. I push past Anna, still not able to talk, and wrap my hands around the chains keeping my mother from her freedom. The ice flows faster than it ever has. I destroy the chains in my grip and the breath I had been holding comes out in a shattered gasp.

As if pushed by powers other than my own will I stumble over to Kristoff, freeing him too. He runs to Anna, taking her in to his arms and holding her so tight they appear as one. He promises her to never leave her, and whispers a thousand things in to her ears and hair as he kisses her over and over.

I help our mother to her feet. She is far too light and covered in, both old and new, scars. Her left arm is in tact, her writing hand still working, but her right arm ends in an aggressive and ragged stump. "Elsa." She mutters my name several times. "Honey, you're safe; you are alive, and safe." She runs her hand over my face, tracing my features, making sure I am real. "Burns, why are you burned, so many burns." She looks down and then looks back up, her eye wide. "Elsa, your father, he, he isn't." She clutches my hand in hers. "He was killed."

I nod, not yet able to tell her that it is my fault.

Anna walks over toward us, her arm wrapped around Kristoff's waist, and his arm in turn wrapped around her shoulders. "Mama." Anna's voice is that of when she was a child. It is desperate and optimistic. "Are you," Anna pauses, eyes widening as she takes in the lack of right arm. "ok...?"

Our mother shakes her head, I do doubt that she is without any aches or pains, but now is not the time. We need to leave; we need to be somewhere, anywhere, other than this boat. Hans could round the corner at any moment. The fire was not as tragically bad as to keep him trapped within the burning wreckage for hours. He is going to notice my absence, and then he is going to know where I am and who I am trying to free.

"We have to go." I interrupt Anna and my mother. Unless we leave this moment, there will not be the chance for any sort of catching up. "Hans will be here, he is probably already on his way, and those guards will not stay down forever." I launch in to a panicked list of all the trouble we are likely to face.

"Hans?" My mother asks. "That man, that awful man. Did he do this to you?" Her hand dances in front of the burn on my forearm.

"We have to leave." I ignore her worry and instead approach the door, determined to keep myself together, to not become arrogant in my success and only rejoice when we have found a way to defeat Hans. I cannot allow myself the poison of false hope.

The guards are still, for the most part, unconscious. Those that are not have been debilitated by daggers and ice. "Elsa, Honey." My mother's voice has more strength now. "What has that man done to you?" The unwavering concern of my mother only serves to push my tears closer to the surface and to stoke my guilt.

I must have shown something in my face for her to be so sure that my scars are not limited to those of burns. She has always known me far more than I have known myself. I worry for the faintest of seconds how I will explain to my mother that I am carrying that man's child.

Everything is overshadowed by the need to be free from this boat, by the need to show my mother than the sky has not stopped existing and that it is still as beautiful as it ever has been. Anna helps her with her footing, guiding her around the slumped over guards, and up the stairs to the deck.

Several guards object of course, I would expect nothing less of them, but they cannot stand, and even if they could they would dare not. I stand poised with ice in my palms, ensuring that they know sudden movements will be their last. I feel to useless, I am left to keep the sleeping men down. I know it would not be safe to touch my mother, my powers are fighting within me, and I jump back and forth from terror to elation, and then back to terror, faster than I had thought possible. I wish she could lean on me, that I could be strong for her, for Anna, for myself. I want, so much, to prove to myself that I am not simply a shattered mess of tears and gasps.

I hurry up to the deck of the boat behind everyone. Where we go from there is not clear, we cannot hide in the mountains, Kristoff is weak and my mother weaker still. They need warmth, something that I cannot offer. There must be an inn somewhere, somewhere we could hide and keep them safe.

Such ideas are that of a child. We cannot keep them safe. Hans will find us if we try to hide. Hans will kill us if we try to hide. Hans will kill us if we do nothing. In spite of our lack of direction I help my mother off the boat, having forced my powers to quiet. She will not look down at her feet; she is too focused on the stars. The sky is clear and the moon is a vibrant slice of hope. Stars break through the black and twinkle across the world.

"I had forgotten." She speaks with a broken whisper. "Just how beautiful the sky is." I stare with her, accepting that this is the night sky that we now stand under, together. We will become much less safe than we are right now very soon. Hans will come, and no matter what happens this will end. I do not know how this will end, but there will be no kind terms of surrender. Hans will die for his cause and for his pride.

"We have to go to the castle." I speak the obvious, knowing that it is lunacy. The castle is not safe, but anywhere else is less safe. If we run Hans will find us and surprise us, he will have time to amass supporters. If we met him at the castle, we will be as confused as him. If we go to him then we will be as equals.

"Elsa." Anna gives me the most ludicrous look she ever has. "Elsa, we can't, Hans is there. He'll kill us. We're back together. We can't risk this."

"Anna, we can't risk trying to hide." I explain. "Hans will be weak now. He will be confused and maybe even just a little bit scared. Every part of his plan has fallen apart. We might be able to stop him."

"Elsa, what you are asking is suicide. This man is not reasonable. You gave him fair trial before and he came back with a vengeance and hostages. If through some miracle we manage to detain him, he will only find a way back with an army in tow. And if we cannot detain him, then we have to kill him."

"What else is there?" I am not asking Anna, I know she does not have the answer. I am shouting at the world, demanding that the stars spell out what I must do, or that the wind whistles with an easier fate.

I want something that does not exist. I know that there is no easy way out. My entire life has been a lesson to that. I know that the world is not kind, and I know that to fight for something different is to lose.

"She's right." Kristoff breaks the tense quiet with a ragged voice. "If we run, we die. If we fight we have the slightest of chances. I saw the men that he had, when he captured me. There are many of them, yes, but they are disorganized. Hans may pretend that he knows what he is doing, but you are not taught how to run a kingdom, or even a castle, when you are thirteenth in line for the throne."

"Anna," my voice is not as strong as I wish it to be, I am not as strong as I wish to be, "there is no other way, and no amount of wishing will solve this. We have to fight him, and we have to do it now."

There is a terribly long pause. A pause in which I have time to reflect on the lunacy of marching back to the castle and searching for the man that has tormented me and turned my world in to a shattered shell of all it was.

"Ok," Anna agrees, "let's go back to the castle."

* * *

**I know the reunion was short and abrupt, but they cant afford to sit around crying, yet. **

**Thank you, as always, for reading. I'll have a new chapter up on the 21st. **

**-Whovian123**

**Yulissab02: Thank you. Yes the end is so close, I'm finishing the last few chapters as you read this. **

**marvelousgameofdisneythrone: Thank you. Bad feelings are probably appropriate. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Technically their mother isn't in once piece, because of the hand thing, but other than that... **

**musicaloceot: Thank you. I get really nervous writing people fighting, as I have never been in a sword fight myself. **

**Phill: Thank you. I don't want it to end either. **


	46. Chapter 46

**Ello, this one is pretty decently sized, the one I'm writing currently is mammoth, so you have that to look forward to in a few updates. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

The night is cold. It is a horrible cold that I can see on everyone's skin but my own. Their breath hangs in the air, a puff of fog quickly sucked back in as they try to keep warm. My own breath hides. It seems as if I am not breathing, and I feel as if I am not. My chest is not working properly, of that I am sure. It does not pull the air in deep enough. It is blocked by the fear that I have been reunited with my mother only to have her torn away all too soon because I decided that Hans could not be left alone.

I could not run though, even if there was a way to keep everyone else warm and safe in the mountains I owe it to my country. When I was made queen I promised them that I would be strong, wise, and just. I have been none of those things. I may have stayed in my country, but that did not stop me from forsaking my people. If nothing else I owe them my life in an attempt to stop Hans.

There is still smoke pluming in to the night sky, it serves to blacken out several stars and is now casting shade across the moon. I strain my eyes, trying to see if there is any sign of active fire. I do not want to have burned the castle to the ground. What I did was reckless and on impulse, I did not want to cause this much damage. I can still see the turrets and blue roof of the castle, most of them, I think.

I cannot yet tell, but one may be missing, likely reduced to a pile of hot stone bricks and charcoal. It does sadden me, or course, but I am also angry. I am so angry at myself for so many things. I have made nothing but mistake after mistake. I have thrown months of my life in to this mistake, but I go my mother back.

It was worth it, I decide, every single thing was worth it. Even if I die today and only Anna gets to live on with our mother, it will still be worth it. I brought what little is left of our family back together. It was not conventional, but when have I even been so.

Anna is by my side, still supporting our mother, and giving me worried looks. "This is dangerous." She whispers.

Exasperated I whisper back in fierce tones. "Of course it is, but this is my choice-."

"Not just for you." Anna shoots back, explaining quickly before I try to interrupt her again. "but for your child as well."

I nearly trip over my own feet. I forgot. How could I forget that? A life growing inside of me, depending on me more than anyone has ever dared. How could I already be such an awful mother? How could I dare forsake my son, and end his life because I refuse to think of another way.

Inwardly I thank Anna for her hushed tones. Mother does not know. I do not even know if I want her to know. What would she think; a grandson with a father that kept her from the world for four years? It makes me nervous, the thought of telling her makes me feel like a scandalized child. I cannot shake the feeling that she will be horribly ashamed of me.

We do still march toward the castle. For as dangerous and reckless as it is to put my son in such danger, the alternative is still much worse. Everyone will die, even my son, he would be born, and if I was lucky and he was healthy, he would still freeze. He would die in my arms, crying and cold because I cannot offer him the warmth that he needs.

I find myself crying, not the loud gasping cry that would draw the attention, of Anna, my mother, and Kristoff, a small cry that manifests in small tears. I pray that the night will cloak my shame. I do not want to cry, I want to face whatever end this turns out to be with strength, for once in my life I want to be strong enough.

The bridge to the castle stretches out longer than it ever has. It gives me far too much time to wrestle with the urge to run. I always run, when things seem impossible I leave. I ran at my coronation, and I ran from Anna's help, until I didn't. The one time I stopped sprinting long enough to stop and see that Anna was there. The world is not kind, this I know, but Anna is. She taught me that to run is to give up and lose. You do not win by running.

I will not run.

The gates are still hanging open from mine and Anna's escape earlier. How strange it is to walk back through them of my own free will. I stop at them, not being able to take more than four steps in. It takes a moment for the effect to catch, but in several moments Anna is looking back at me with confusion written across her face. "Elsa?"

"Whatever is in there," I motion to the remaining wings of the castle, all but a short section of the farthest wing is still standing, "is not safe. I want you to promise me, if anything happens, you run."

I know it is not wise to encourage my own bad habit in others, but the alternative is to feel useless if I die, to know that I have done far too little for my family.

"Elsa, honey." My mother is standing in front of my now, searching my eyes for an answer to my insanity. "After all this time, do you think I would decide that a mad man is reason enough to leave my daughter." She pulls me in to a hug, her one arm wrapping tighter than two ever could. Now I am crying a full verbal and ugly cry.

I cling to her; I pull her close and revel in the feeling of safety I have not been able to feel in years. She is warm, so warm, it is not the kind I could ever shy away from. It buries in to my core and wraps its way around my heart. I can do anything with my mother behind me. She makes me strong. She was there when I was not, on the nights when my body had abandoned me and my powers had consumed me, she was there. The only person not afraid of what I could do, the only person willing to risk a chill. The only person I could hear.

"I'm sorry." The apology launches itself in to the air before I can stop it. "I'm sorry I couldn't help. I'm sorry you had to wait in that boat. I'm sorry you only have one arm left. I'm sorry father died. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough." I know that I am apologizing for far more than the last few months. I have a lifetime of shame and cowardice to apologize for.

"Elsa, you have never been more than the best you could manage. All I ask is that you give everything, and you always have. You have _never_ let me down, not once." She pulls me tighter, not scared that I will freeze her, not worried that Hans will descend from the castle and kill us all. She is brave, our father was an outwardly strong man, but our mother was the brave one.

"But, it's my fault that papa..." I trail away, ashamed of my failure.

She almost laughs, though her voice is morbid. "Elsa. You didn't kill him; it wasn't you who took his head off."

I do not speak, instead I pull away from the embrace, resolved to deal with whatever may be hiding inside the walls of the castle. I do not dare ask how she knows my father was beheaded. I do not want to think about him spending his last minutes chained to the wall of a boat, shielded from the sky and just too far from his wife to hold her one last time.

Anna watches me as I march forward to the entrance of the castle. There are large patches of pressed grass, the spots where scared guests milled about. I expect they are all back in the castle, if they lost a room they will have been shown a different lavish bedroom and settled back in to bed to waste the rest of the night. It takes a frightful amount of tragedy to unsettle a dignitary. They would have been fed some story of a faulty fireplace. Hans would have been the perfect king, soothing nerves and commanding with grace.

Hans will have not had the grace to return to bed, he will be waiting. The cold of the night would not have suited him; he will be inside the castle, lounging about somewhere, expecting me. With no choice for sanctuary but the castle it would have been no work at all to wait here for me. Once he realized I had escaped it would not have taken long to realize I would be back hours later.

Anna takes my hand, and my mother takes the other. Beyond Anna I can see Kristoff standing in the night and can only assume that his hand is tight around Anna's. I find myself wondering of Kasper. He must have made it through the smoke. He must have been fine. He must be somewhere in the castle, sleeping and not worrying about me.

Part of me wishes he was worrying about me. I silence that part of myself and being to walk through the castle entrance with my hands clasped tight around warm fingers. Now is not the time to think about that prince, the witless prince that keeps stumbling around in my life and my thoughts. Now is far too morbid for such thoughts.

I have to take back my home. I have taken back my family, and now I demand to have the land I grew up on back. The memories held within the castle walls are vivid and flashing. I can remember so many snowmen, just as many snowball fights, and more laughter than I believe children are capable of. I need my home back. I will not accept anything less than everything.

The halls are quiet, painfully so. Every step feels like a rip in paper, cruel and unforgiving. The walls are shadowed with only the light of the night creeping through the windows and daring to give a hint as to the features of the hall. The paintings feel scared, as if they know that the world is in flux, as if they know that in an hour's time they could belong to the Southern Isles rather than Arendelle.

I creep toward the dining hall first, keeping well ahead of the others as I wonder where Hans will be waiting. I do not want my family getting caught in crossfire; I do not want everything to be in vain and my small shattered family to drift impossibly apart once again.

The dining hall is bare; the table is cleared of everything and the chairs stand empty. I peer in to the corners, they are shadowed and frightening, but nothing moves, nothing breaths. The room is safe, but I waste no time feeling so.

I am back in the hallway, signaling to Anna that Hans is still nowhere to be seen. She peeks her head in the dining hall just to be sure. In spite of the horribly tense air and the painful stoic look on Kristoff's face I let out the slightest of chuckles. None of this is funny, this is all dangerous and terrible, but it is also so close to over. Regardless of what happens in the next hour, when the sun does finally dare rise it will be on a world without the constant worry and question that has followed me lo these many months.

The silence settles back once I am done with my out-of-place laughing. We creep further in to the dim halls and worry about where Hans could be and what he may be doing. Each step brings more tension in to the air, before long I start to worry about leaving a trail of ice, I can already see that Anna is breathing fog in to the air, and our mother has wrapped her arm around herself.

She will need to see a doctor, she should not be up, and she should not be walking in to danger. I should not have let her come. Her stump is raw and inflamed. Hans clearly spent no time ensuring that she was cared for properly, or ensuring that she could care for it. I do not want to know with what it was taken off, but I doubt it would have been a sterile bade of any professional sort.

The silence shifts and becomes filled with quick footsteps. I panic and ice flares out in a circle around my feet. It has to be Hans, why is Hans running. Does he have a plan? The footsteps grow louder and closer, until they are directly behind the corner in front of us.

It is, to my great relief, not Hans, but Kasper, who bolts around the corner and comes face to face with me.

His breathing is ragged and his eyes grow wider than I have ever seen. He launches himself at me and pulls me in to a hug that envelopes my senses. He smells wonderful and feels perfect. I return the hug with shaking arms and force my face in to his chest, trying to blot out the worry in my mind.

I can feel his lips moving against the top of my head, he is whispering my name with each breath he takes. He does not say anything else, just my name. He does not offer false words of comfort, or pretend that he knows what is going on and how to stop it, he just tells me what he knows with certainty; my name.

"Are you ok?" In between my trying to pull myself closer to his chest, and his fervent stroking of my hair, I have the good sense to make sure Hans has not found some way to blame Kasper for the events of the evening. "Did Hans do anything?"

"No, no, he didn't touch me, he was too busy with his guards, they didn't look happy." Kasper explains the evening in to my hair. "He did this to you didn't he?" Kasper moves back to examine the burns on my forearm and shoulder.

I nod, refusing to look at my burns, resolving to keep my gaze of Kaspers face. The pain is still there, it has been this whole while, but when I focus on his eyes I can ignore it, forget it even. He looks back at me, raising a tentative hand to cup my cheek. For several moments we wait, listening to his breathing, letting it return to its natural rhythm.

"Who are you?" I hear my mother ask from somewhere behind me.

Kasper starts, just now seeming to realize that I am not on my own, and that we must have been quite the display for the others behind us. He stammers, first taking in Kristoff, and Anna, and then zeroing in on my mother and her rather lacking arm. "Elsa, is- is that your mother?"

I nod.

Kasper breaks away from my arms and takes several unsure steps toward my mother. He then bows with as much formality and grace as he can muster under the conditions. "It is a pleasure to meet you, your majesty, I am prince Kasper."

The formality and normalcy seem so horribly out-of-place in the tense situation we have found ourselves in. I smile as my mother surveys Kasper and then offers him her hand in a handshake. He takes it and they share a smile as my mother called back to me. "He's impressed me thus far."

I smile and feel heat rush to my cheeks and my chest. Kasper smiles back at me, his face goofy and infinitely pleased. I do forget, for more than several moments, that I should be worried about Hans. I suppose in the back of my head I know he is here, and that I am in danger, but it does not feel like it matters all that much.

My feet bring me to Kasper and my mother. I fall in to place beside him, a place which feels so blindingly familiar. His warmth does not scare me as it does on so many others; instead it is a comfort, and the weight of his arm settling against my waist is new and reassuring.

"It really isn't safe here." Kasper explains. "You shouldn't be here. He's waiting for you, he thinks the fire was your fault, he only just managed to keep it under control."

"It was my fault." I confess. "He had- he, said some things, and did some things, I was angry and threw a lantern at the wall, it caught on a tapestry." I try to avoid the specifics of mine and Hanses rage. I do not want Kasper to know about my son. I cannot help but worry that him finding out will prompt his return home.

"You still shouldn't be here." Anna interjects. "It's not safe, for anyone." Her implication is clear, she wants me to keep her nephew safe.

"That's exactly why I have to be here, it's not safe and I need to make sure that tomorrow it is. This has to end, for everyone's future." I need Anna to realize that my son will only ever be safe if I end this now. I want him to be safe, and even if he is not now, he will be soon.

Anna wears an irritated look as she turns to face the rest of the hallway. I silently thank her for not revealing my secret to our mother and Kasper. "I guess we better get back to looking." Anna suggests. "Maybe the ballroom?"

* * *

**So? How did I do? Lemme know with a review, I do so love them. **

**I'll have a new chapter up for you guys on the 26th. **

**-Whovian123**

**Loridhhp: Thank you. There is never enough time for reunions, such is life. If I am to write a sequel I cannot see it being more than 25-30 chapters, and it would wind up being like an extended epilogue, but with proper plot and things to overcome. I am debating just posting it at the end of this story, to avoid clutter within the archive and keep the readership. **

**burningbridges42: Thank you. Mother knows best, eh?**

**ajunebuga: Thank you. ballsy indeed my friend, ballsy indeed. **

**musicalocelot: Thank you. The crescendo is nearing, I promise carnage! The sequel is all but greenlit, though it may be more of an extended epilogue, with plot... **

**Summer loving snowman: Thank you. Mayyyybe... Though I'm not sure if anyone but Elsa can truly save them...  
**


	47. Chapter 47

**Hello. I come to you this week with the realization that about 20 chapters ago I thought I was 10 chapters from the end... Ops.. **

**I do promise that we really are reaching the end, I am sure you have picked up on it, or will soon. I mention it a bit in the coming chapters. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

The ballroom is much further in the castle, and our steps seem too small as we head toward it. I do relish in the time, for it feels as if I may be running out. I tried to talk Kasper in to leaving, in to running from here and keeping himself safe, but he refused to listen to reason and instead decided that he would fit best by my side. I did disagree with him, though I doubt I sounded all that convincing.

It feels as if Hans is in all corners of the castle. As if he exists in every shadow and behind every painting. If tomorrow brings a day where the castle is once again mine and I am free to do as I please, I will have the walls repainted and all evidence of Hans thrown in to the fjords.

My powers are not as violent now, Kasper has calmed them. I still feel them, and they still want to be released, but it is not hard to stop them, they content themselves with reveling in the feeling of safety that is all to fleeting.

I wish I had something to say, something to stop my mind from wondering. When left unchecked I can find myself rather deep in thoughts of that which is best not thought about. My mind does stray and I start to worry about the morning, would I never know what to do with such freedom. I can scarcely recall the brief period of time in which I was not a prisoner in one form or another.

Would I manage, could I survive in a world without terror? For countless years it has been the one thing accompanying me, it was there during all hours of the day, and it mocked me as I slept. It invaded my dreams and left me to wake coated with frost. Could it really ever go away, would I dare let it? Who would I be without it? I have become so accustomed to being scared that I have lost myself in fear. How much of _me_ is left?

"Elsa?" Kasper has moves him arm from my waist to my shoulder and it looking at me with a face far too worried for my liking. "Do you even have a sword? What is the plan?"

"I don't need a sword." I remind Kasper of my powers with a snap of my fingers and a puff of snow.

"Ok, but are you sure you don't need anything else?" Kasper worries. "Armour? A shield? Just a small dagger?" He takes his own knife from his belt and offers it to me. I decline.

"Kasper, I know this is not going to be fun, I know it's scary, but a knife and breastplate will leave me just as vulnerable as I am now." I try to explain to the jittery man by my side that what seems important to him is not going to do my any favours in a fight. Armor is alien to me. Having never moved in it will slow me down, which is not key when my dexterity will be one of my only assets. Knifes are also an inconvenience, having scarcely handled on in a crisis, but having always had my powers when I needed the strength of ice.

"It doesn't feel right, going to him, this is wrong. You should be running, sending an army in here to capture him." Kasper continues to try to sway my reasoning.

"He had men in my guard, he planted moles and waited until there was no one left who belonged and them he struck. He has had every opportunity to shift the allegiance of my generals. I do not trust anyone, not anymore. It is me, and my family, against the world." I explain to Kasper the finer details of Hans's rise to power.

"Where do I fit?" He asks, no longer trying to convince me of anything. "Am I family, or the world? Are you with me, or against me?" He trails off in to silence, shifting his gaze from my face to the ground in front of him. We walk in silence for several moments. I struggle to make sense of why I need, so desperately, to say-.

"Family." I answer. "Or at the very least friend." I tack on the last bit, scared of what calling Kasper family might mean for this, ever nearing, tomorrow.

He nods, and I feel his arm drop from my shoulder and curl back around my waist, holding tighter than it did before, and feeling just a bit more reassuring than it did before. I smile again, realizing that I have done an astounding amount of that today.

The ballroom looms ahead of us, several doors away. Hans could be in there, but he could also be anywhere else. I decide that it does not matter where he is. I am going to assume he is in that ballroom and that my life may end in several minutes. I am going to say goodbye, because now may be the only chance I ever get, and if it is, I do not want to waste the opportunity.

I stop walking, and the rest of my eclectic little family follows suit. "This could be it." I start. "This could be the end of the road, and though I hope there are many, many, more miles, I cannot ignore that there may not be." I stare down at my hands and then step forward to face my mother.

"Honey, I would sooner die than let that man lay a finger on you." Her voice is soft, soft and comforting, just as I remember from my childhood. "This will not be the end and I forbid you to think such thoughts." She works wonders with her words, or maybe I am simply desperate for the reassurance of my mother, regardless, it calms me down.

"I know." I assure her. "And I also know that anything could happen, and that stranger things _have_ happened. I thought you were dead, everyone thought you were dead, but you are not, and I cannot overlook a gift like that, I hope that I make you proud, when I thought you were gone, that was what I worried of, among many other things, did I ever make you proud, even for a moment." I know that what I have said will never be enough, but I still have to try.

She steps forward to meet me and hugs me with her single arm. "You have always made me proud." I pull my arms around her, wincing at how her bones stand against her skin, and the way her completion cries for sun. "Who you are, is more than enough, and whoever, whatever, is in that room, will not be enough to take you from me again."

I try to mask my tears but the come anyway. "Thank you mama." I whisper in her ear. "I love you." We rest for several moments and then break apart. She has tears on her cheeks and a smile tugging at her lips.

"I love you to, honey. And no force in that room can take you from me."

I smile and move to Kristoff. "You." I say. "You better be the best husband ever. Anna deserves more than anyone on this earth could ever give her, but if I had to pick someone who would suffice, you would win every time. Don't let her be sad, if the worst happens, don't let her get stuck." Kristoff nods.

"Elsa." Anna's voice is already mixed with tears. "The worst will not happen, you can't think like that. We are going to win."

"Ever the optimist." I muse, trying to lighten the mood, and the flow of tears from my eyes.

"I have to be, what with your pessimistic goodbyes."

"You can't get stuck, Anna you have to remember there is a world out there that will need you. If I die the throne is yours, you need to be there for the country. I don't know what shape it's going to be in come sunrise. You have to believe in yourself. And you have to know that you deserved a better sister than what I was." My voice breaks and I know that I will be hard-pressed to force anything further out. Anna does not need it though; she throws her arms around my waist and squeezes me until I forget what I am worried about.

"You are the best sister a person could want. You never give yourself enough credit, and you never have enough faith in yourself, which is the only reason we are having this conversation in the first place, nothing is going to happen."

"But if it did-."

"It won't." Anna cuts me off, refusing to even entertain the idea of anything other than victory. "You will see tomorrow, and we will rejoice in our freedom, and, I suppose, if you need to hear it, I will remind you, for completely none Hans reasons, that I love you."

"I love you too." I choke the words out with tears and gasps. Anna steps away after one final squeeze of her arms.

"Sisters forever."

"Sisters forever."

Now that I am well and truly shattered I move back to my spot beside Kasper. "What, no heartfelt goodbye?" He asks, trying to sound light hearted, but comes across as genuinely hurt.

"I don't know what to say to you in casual conversation, much less what words to leave you with before my death." I try to make him see that I wish I had the words, but they get clogged in my head and mix about in my throat. He takes my hand in his and squeezes.

I squeeze back.

That will be enough; the squeeze will tell him what he needs to be told. Even if I do not know what needs to be said myself. He makes me feel both safe, and so very out of my depth, at the same time, all in one huge swirl of emotion the sits in my chest and radiates warmth.

The door to the ballroom is still where it was, it has not changed in the slightest, but it does loom less. It almost looks as if it has decided that it is no different from any other door. It blends in with the doors around it and sheds it bravo.

Within the room, guarded by a door, is a man. A man who is just a man, nothing more, and that man is so spectacularly mortal, that man is my husband, and the father of my child. He shall not get a chance to continue being either. I will see to it that the mortal man is captured, or stopped in some way. The man, Hans, will be sitting in a cell and being shipped back home by sunrise.

I will not continue to bow to his whim, whatever is waiting in there, Hans, an army, it will be beaten, even if I have to give my life for the freedom of my family, and my country. I will not allow myself to walk away from this a prisoner. My life will belong to me and I will do with it as I please. Orders from angry men will not be met with obedience.

There is nearly a spring in my step, as I cross the distance from the spot in the hallway to the door. It is a heavy moment, a moment weighted in the future of many, but I am happy. Waiting has never suited me; it leaves me nervous and volatile. With the waiting over and my future so close I find it impossible to worry all that much.

Maybe I should be, maybe there should be a snaking trail of ice behind me, and frost curling across the windows. Maybe I should be breathing fast and listening to the rushing of blood in my ears, but I am not. My fists are not clenched; my palms are not ragged with the tips of my nails digging at the skin. I am far calmer than I ought to be, but maybe it will give me strength. My absurd calm could lend itself in my crusade against Hans.

I stop thinking about how calm I may or may not be as I push through the double doors to the ballroom and brace myself for facing either, an empty room, or Hans.

* * *

**Thank you for reading. Please tell me what you thought with a review, they do make my day a little better. **

**I will be back with another chapter on the 31st... HALLOWEEN! Yay. Or what you celebrate in your neck of the woods. I happen to celebrate Halloween. Let me know if you have a different tradition. I feel like learning...  
**

**-Whovian123**

**Loridhhp: Thank you. I am really very nervous about managing a climax that is worth the fifty chapters I forced everyone though. It's amazing to know that I have done well so far.**

**CleverforClever: Thank you. I think we do differ on the perception of Hans slightly, he is a polarizing character. He did abstain from violence for the bulk of the movie, yet was quick to attempt to kill Elsa when he no longer had to keep up a pretense of kind princely suitor, I believe this quick to harm attitude would follow him in post movie conflict. Also, in my mind, Hans killing their father served as a way to reassure Elsa that he would not bluff, and as he still had the mother he retained a bargaining chip he could retain power over Elsa. Though I still do see the absurdity in it. He also does have the makings of a fine ruler, but as 13th in line for the throne he was never educated all that much on the finer details of kingdom management. I do see all your points and I do respect that what I have written is not perfect, also, I thank you for your continued reading of the story, though I respect your right to decide at any moment that you cannot bear a chapter more.  
**

**LilyGHall: Thank you. You're fabulous. **


	48. Chapter 48

**Hello. Decent sized chapter here. I do hope you like it.**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

"I was starting to think," a voice cleaves though the silence of the ballroom, "that you were not going to show up. It would have been quite the hassle for me, to go looking through all the inns of Arendelle." Hans is standing in the far end of the ballroom, leaning against the wall with far too large a smile plastered in his face.

"Where would be the fun in that." I force the words past the gravel in my throat, trying anything I can think of to disarm Hans. He is flanked by six guards, three on each side of him. They all look nervous; as if they would rather be anywhere else.

Hans smiles the smile of a killer. "You have been far too sassy of late; I will be putting an end to that in the near future."

"I think your idea of the future, is very different from mine." I try to be confident. I try to keep the panic at bay. I try to be strong for the brave family standing behind me. They deserve better, but they are stuck with me, so I will be all I can, for them.

"Elsa. If you don't stop using that tone, you will not have much future at all." Hans threatens; unnerved by my lack of submission, he surveys my family behind me. "Elsa, you seem to have had a reunion of sorts, would you care to introduce me to this lovely one-armed lady?" A flicker of fear dashes across his face so fast I nearly missed it, but it was there, Hans is panicking. Without his crucial piece of leverage his plan is falling apart at the seams.

"I am disappointed in you Hans." I revel in the chance to turn the tables on him. "That was no mighty guard. It was easy saving her. I expected better from you." Hans may have had a terrible guard protecting my mother, but the only thing he would take more care in protecting is himself. I have no doubt that the six guards watching me will pose a challenge.

"You wench." Hans spits. "Have no right to treat your husband in such a way."

"You were never my husband, not truly." I refute his claim to any such title that would give him power. I cannot let him think I am still scared, in spite of the fact that my calm has fled me and been replaced by fear.

"But wasn't I? I took the thing that husbands take on wedding nights." Hans slinks forward from the wall, his eyes dark and his demeanour following suit. "It took a little bit of work, but you couldn't fight forever." He walks toward me, his steps careful and deliberate as he stares holes in to my soul. The closer he gets the more I can see Kasper fidgeting out of the corner of my eye, as Hans takes the final steps towards me and brings his hand up to touch my jaw he interjects.

"Don't go near her." Kasper sets his jaw and steps in to place beside me. "Don't you dare lay a finger on her, not ever again!"

Hans ignores Kasper and keeps his gaze trained on me and my stomach. "You haven't told him have you?" It is a question not meant to be answered. "I expect you haven't told any of them. You wouldn't dare, would you? What would they think? What would they call you?" Hans glances over to Kasper and takes a quiet step back before releasing the truth. "She's pregnant."

"What." I hear the word slip from Kaspers mouth long before he seems to register having said it. "She can't be." He shouts at Hans.

"I think you'll find that she can be." Hans drawls, returning once again to his spot among his guards.

"Elsa." I turn to find that my mother is staring at me, her eyes wide and kind. "Is what he says true?"

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. This is not the way in which I wished for anyone to find out. Anna knew, but no one else did. My cheeks burn with shame and I wrap my arms around my waist, shielding my child from the world around it, the world which is proving once again just how cruel it can be.

"Have you been eating well?"

Of the many things I expected to hear that was not one of them. "What? Why?"

"I remember I had terrible trouble keeping anything down with you and your sister." She explains as she steps toward me. "You have to try and eat anyway, the baby needs it."

I stand baffled. No yelling? Why will no one yell at me? Everyone has been remarkably understanding about my misdeed. Anna was kind and supportive. I do not deserve this; I do not deserve to be given such grace. "You're not… upset?" I chance the question, worried that it might startle my mother in to realizing just how furious she ought to be.

"Elsa, how could I be?" My mother is to kind, far to kind for this world. She deserves better than the life she has been given. She deserves a better daughter than me, and a prettier last four years. She deserves both of her arms, and skin without ugly mars such as the many scars of captivity. I wish I could give her more.

"That's very sweet." Hans calls across the room. "Why don't you start talking baby names? Personally I like Kennet, It means born of fire. I think it's quite fitting." He maintains his glare while he speaks, watching me with too much intensity.

I ignore him, looking instead to the ceiling, trying to make sense of anything and work out what happens next. The guards wait, standing as fixtures against the wall, chests puffed out a strong, arms resting on the pommels of their swords. They do not react, they do not shift their gaze, or their weight, they are as statues in the room, unyielding and menacing. I wonder if they have been given a signal on which to attack.

Could I protect my family? Will I be able to manage saving them? Would these men find a way to overpower me? Frost burns in my fingers at the thought. I can defend myself; the resource to do so is built in to my body, my soul. My ice is instinctive, and I am sure it would do its upmost to save my mother if she was being threatened, but would it work? I fear that I cannot direct my powers well enough to help anyone.

"You are a coward." My mother surprises me by shouting at Hans.

"I'm sorry? I'm a what?" He asks, his voice rising in the way that lets you know he dares not believe she said what he heard.

"A coward. You talk like a coward. You do not walk with honor; you are hollow just as your words are. You have spent a life time building yourself in to a thin shell of confidence, but you are still a coward underneath." Her voice rising, she shouts one final insult at Hans. "And your lust for power is the most cowardice thing of all."

Hanses eyes shift, they drop all pretence of civility and morph in to dark pools of anger. "You," his voice slices through the near calm in the air, "best be careful. I took one arm off and will not hesitate to take off the second."

My mother proves just how strong she is by meeting his gaze and refusing to speak. She knows what she has said is true, and she knows that what he said will not prove to be possible. Hans will have no means for limb removal if we win. It sends a jolt of happiness to my chest to know that my mother has such faith in our success, though; the happiness is accompanied by a healthy dose of worry.

Hans continues on. "The patter is all very nice, but something has to happen now. I will give you a choice; I know people are always on about free will and whatnot. You either surrender now, or be killed by these lovely gentlemen standing here with me. They are my personal guard, the best of the best if you will. No one beats them, such a feat would be; impossible."

"I have a penchant for the impossible."

"No, you don't." Hans counters, ever a witty mastermind. He then throws his hand in to the air and proves that, yes; the guards do have a signal on which to start fighting.

They all start in unison. Tearing swords from sheaths and charging forward. I am reminded with startling force, just how under armed my family is. My arms are up as the men begin advancing, frost pooling in my palms and shards of ice shooting forward, keeping some of the men at bay. I have startled them, which works in my favor as they have dropped swords, and daggers have fallen lose, as they scramble to escape my onslaught of cold.

Kristoff darts forward, retrieving two swords, one of which he offers Anna. Kasper draw his own sword that had gone unnoticed belted to his side.

"Kasper." I call forward to him as he dodges a dagger and parries a sword.

"What?" He calls back, his voice attentive and irritated.

"My mother, she needs something to keep her safe." I chance a look back at my mother and see that she is against the wall, skin pale and horribly un-armed in the event that a guard slips past me and my ice.

Kasper nods and sends the hilt of his sword in to the guards' wrist, sending the offending sword to the ground with a clatter, and causing the man to curse and lash out at Kasper with his fists. He jumps out of the way and kicks the sword back to me. I, in turn, send it further back with my heel, and check to make sure my mother has picked it up and can at least look frightening and formidable.

Satisfied that I have done what I can, I turn to face the men bolting toward me and disarm them with a gust of wind and scattered snowflakes. They stumble but continue forward, unfazed. The first reaches me with venom in his eyes. I duck under his swinging fist and throw him to the far side of the ballroom with an icy jolt.

The next to two men have daggers, secondary weapons in the event that I managed to disarm them, which proved all too easy. I pull cords of hail out of the air, swinging the balls of ice at the men, confusing them and stinging their eyes. They banish their knives in all directions, hoping to hit me or cause some kind of damage; instead they only succeed in nicking each other.

I duck down and rip away a dagger strapped to one of the guards' thighs. It feels heavy in my hand and catches in the man's leggings; I drag it up and across his thigh, sending him to the ground with a frightening gash. The other man catches my left shoulder with his knife as he trips over the guard and falls to the ground.

The cut is clean and gushing. I cover it with my right hand, keeping the dagger firm in my left. Veins of ice web across the blade as I wedge it in to the shoulder of the second fallen guard. My shoulder burns and shakes as the muscles fight to work with the draining blood and whatever damage lies below the surface.

Anna and Kristoff are fighting to gain the upper hand as they battle several guards back to back. They weave around each other as one, protecting one another, and keeping safe. My mother surprises me by forcing a man to his knees in spite of her poor state and lacking arm.

Kasper is not as fortunate. His swordsmanship proves to be rather poor, and the guards advancing on him are too much to handle. His eyes are wide and caked with panic.

I scramble for a proper sword, seeing one next to a downed guard, and then retrieving it. The weight is strange in my hands. Steel is not my weapon of choice. I would much rather use a bolt of ice any day, but Kasper is in close quarters and I do not want to risk freezing his heart.

He catches my gaze and I see a hint of a smile on his face. I surprise myself and disarm one of the guards and then join Kasper in battling the other. His form is poor, and he holds the sword in a way that tells everyone he is scared, but he sets his jaw and continues to do all he can. I must remember to thank him when this is all over, for he has done far too much for a country not his own.

My shoulder flares with each swing and each block, but I blot it out with the need for victory. My burns are smouldering and I wish I could conjure ice to cool them, but this is not the place to sit quietly and ice old pains. This is the time to ignore everything sensible and work with the pulsing of your heart and the buzzing in your ears.

I fight with vigor I did not know I possessed. I do not know myself, as I whirl and twirl with steel in hand I worry that this will become a habit of mine; violence. I do not want to hurt, but it has always been something I did accidently, and now, aiming to down these men, I am worried. I do not kill. Tearing apart knees and shoulders puts a man down just as easily as a stab through the chest does.

I cannot imagine killing. All my life I have been worried of accidently killing someone, I very nearly did just that with Anna several times. These men are not my enemy, they are pawns, bought and paid for chess pieces that Hans has little qualms with sending to their death, a death I refuse to provide.

Kasper stumbles forward, with the grace of a new-born foal, and strikes a guard. I watch him, and cover him, as he twists and turns in uncomfortable angles of all sorts, trying to keep what ground he has.

"Are you really pregnant?" He asks, between thrusts and blocks.

"What?" I shout back. This is not the time of the place to as terrible questions. Questions Kasper already knows the answer to. Questions I had hoped he would never find the answer to because it leaves me so terribly ashamed. "You cannot be serious." I fight to hide my panic. "This is not the time, nor the place, for such questions."

"But, you are; with his baby." Kaspers voice wavers for a moment, sounds as if he is struggling to make the words work as he wishes. "You and he, you…"

I wince; my body tries to curl itself up at the reminder of what I have been fighting so hard to forget. It's all I can feel now, his fingers, his hands, _everywhere_, places they should never have gone. My breath comes quicker and I drop my sword, I think I hear it clatter to the ground, but it is drowned out by the memories of Hanses voice. "_This will be easier if you don't struggle." "Do you realize how pathetic you are?" _

"I didn't want to!" I shout for both, present day Kasper, and Hans throughout all of time. It will not stop, it's just him, over and over again in my mind's eye, taunting me and taking from me. I back myself to the wall, pressing against it and keeping myself from slipping back in to that moment. The guards have noticed my panic and are slashing at me now. I don't care much, what are several more scars packed on the thousands I already have? How much more broken can one person get?

Kasper hacks at the guards, still clumsy in his handling of the steel, but determined. "No, please," he begs of me, "don't be sad. I know it's bad; it's terrible, and vile for him to do that. But I can't stand to see you sad."

His words are lost on me. I am too far gone. I am not there; I am back in that room, my father's lifeless face dancing in front of my eyes, breaking only for Hans to mock me. It is consuming. The panic eats at me, at the air around me. It drains the world until I am left with nothing but terror and instinct.

My hands are flat against the wall; palms spread and bracing my back, as if I might push myself forward and in to the many skirmishes in the room. I do not, instead I clutch the wall, willing myself to fall in to it and become brick. It would be so much easier to leave my problems behind, to run and run until they could never find me. I cannot. It would be the most irresponsible thing to leave my family with the terror of Hans.

"Elsa." Kasper says my man as he fights off a guard. "Elsa. Don't leave, stay here," he speaks to my mental state, having no way of knowing my desire to run, "the past is past, you don't have to deal with it, it can only hurt you if you let it, and I promise you, you don't have to let it."

I shut my eyes, hoping that I can cast away the memory of Hans, but it only gets stronger. Kaspers words mean nothing, I head them as clearly as I ever have, but I do not understand. I cannot understand how moving past this is ever going to be possible. There is no future beyond Hans; he has promised me death time and time again. I wouldn't know what to do with extra time.

"Elsa." It is not Kasper that calls to me, he is too busy juggling his sword and fending off a guard, it is my mother. "Honey, I just got you back, this is the first time in thirteen years that you are truly here, don't go away again, please."

I feel another was of guilt, because she is right. I was gone, not there, forced myself to be somewhere else even when my body was with them. I hurt Anna and part of me went away, and I have fought so long to get that back, to take back what control I lost.

Leaving again is not an option, not when I have fought so long for the family I have left. For my father I must fight, for his death I will scream against the memories. His life is gone and the thought of it being a waste sends me deeper in to a panic.

I do not want to waste a life. Life is too important to be wasted. I will not waste it; not mine, not Anna's, not my mothers, and not my fathers. My future is blank, time past Hans was impossible to me, and I like it like that. I have no plans, no expectations. I can be something that is not defined by my powers and my marriageability. What I do will be me, no one else, no fear, no Hans.

My eyes are open now, Kasper is still struggling, and my mother is still alive, as is Anna. My family is here and I need to stop being selfish and assuming that I need them without them needing me. People may need me; my son will need me more than anyone ever has. If nothing else I owe him my future; I owe him a future.

There is a sword in my hand again, I do not remember bending down to pick it up, but I must have. The weight is still strange, but as ice crawls up the handle, and blade, it becomes far more comfortable.

I come to Kaspers aid most spectacularly, first knocking him to the side and then knocking the sword from the guards hand to the floor. The man reaches for his dagger, but I have sent the pommel of my sword in to his head before he has a moment to breathe. He winds up slumped on the ground, out like a sack of potatoes. I wonder of the headaches these guards will have when they wake.

There are still two standing guards, one being fended off by my mother, and another being fought by both Anna and Kristoff. They work as one, in sync and far more graceful than either of them has ever been in daily life. They bring out the best in each other.

I sprint to my mother's side, abandoning my sword in favor of a barrage of ice crystals whipping a the man, giving my mother a chance to gain the upper hand, and giving me several seconds more in which to save her. She does not need my saving and sends the man to the ground, unconscious, within seconds after the crystals hit.

Anna and Kristoff stand with the last guard, having forced him to his knees. Kristoff's sword rests at the base of the man's neck, subduing him. That is it, every guard forced to the ground, some way or another. Only Hans stands against us now. Only Hans stands against me.

I look to him at the far side of the room. He has drawing his sword, determined to do anything but, surrender peacefully.

* * *

**So? How was it? Please let me know with a review, they do make me so happy.**

**I'll have a new chapter up for you on the 5th. Until then Happy Halloween. **

**-Whovian123**

**marvelousgameofdisneythrones: Thank you. The end is drawing near... I suppose I have to write it now... **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. I'm nearly as anxious as Elsa when I think about the last few chapters. **

**bexmad: Thank you. My fingers are crossed to. Happiness might be in the cards... might. **


	49. Chapter 49

**Hello... Guys... This is a big one... (Not in size but in content)... **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

I try to think of something to say, something that feels right after all these months of hurt, pain, and threats, but nothing comes. Instead I am left staring at Hans; utterly mute.

His eyes are dark and furious. He is furious, but when is he not. Never has he been pleased. I entertain, for the briefest of moments, that he may never be pleased, that he is un-pleaseable, and everything I have wrestled with and forced myself to do had been in vain because it would never be good enough. My fists clench and I force the thought from my mind.

I can feel the ice around me, crawling across the polished floors, and creeping though the walls, glossing over the windows with thick slabs, and drawing thin shallow icicles out of the ceiling. It breathes with me, creaking as my weight shifts and crackling with my every exhale, and inhale.

We watch each other, neither of us daring to move in the slightest. We are suspended in this moment, caught in what our future may be. I am scared, nearly the most scared I have ever been, or maybe the most. I don't know where to go from here. I don't know how to kill. I have only ever come close through fear and fluke.

Can I kill?

My heart is beating too fast, and my ears only hear the sound of my blood. It rushes and pounds through my body, sending feeling and terror to the ends of my fingers, curling my toes, and flushing my face as my chest heaves. I do not want to do this. I want an easier way. I need for Hans to surrender, for him to repent and be sent to the Southern Isles for rehabilitation. I want an out, a way to avoid this, to avoid more bloodshed. Wrongs do not make rights, this is not ok. How could this be ok?

He would not stop though. I can see the resolve, the steel, in his eyes, he is determined to be victorious or die. There is no other option for him; he does not know a world where there is kindness, or forgiveness. His grip tightens on his swords and his feet shift, he looks nervous.

"Elsa, surrender." Hans calls at me from his empty side of the ballroom. "I am stronger than you. You are weak, you bend. I do not bend. I demand perfection. I will have my Kingdom." He spits as he shouts, working himself in to a rage, inflating his ego with the illusion of confidence.

I try to find something to say, to find some way of defending myself. I am lost in my mind. The words are not there, it has been too long since I could fight back with an advantage. I do not believe I have one. Hans is still stronger, isn't he? He is telling me he is, he cannot be lying, this cannot be a lie. Months of my life cannot have been spent running from a lie.

"If you cannot bend," I hear my mother's voice, shallow and horse, sounds from behind me, "then you will be broken."

I am grateful that she spoke, but I worry that I cannot break him. How can I? My hands are too shaky and my heart too furious. I am a mess, a spectacular mess of myself.

Hans waits, still as ever, and then takes one step forward, followed by another, and another. Then he stops, looks unsure and squares his shoulder and forces his posture straighter than I had thought possible. "I am not going to give you any other choice. You die, or surrender." Hans declares. "I can explain away your death, your life, and the lives of everyone you love. It will take time, and finesse, but I have the power to execute those who refuse to listen. I can get my son from another wench; a princess. I can have my pick of the litter. My son will have the perfect stock, he will be the perfect prince, and when I do die, he will be the prefect King. Your line will end."

"Hans," I call, using his name, and more strength than I ought to have. "Lines do not matter to us. The name does not make you. I would be just as much myself had I been called Elizabeth. All that matters is family, not the family name." I glance back at Anna, waiting hand in hand with Kristoff. "We are a family, life has given us every opportunity to forsake each other, boats lost at sea, insane fiancés, and dangerous powers, but time and time again we refuse to give each other up." I let my voice change, for the shortest of moments I let myself feels sorry for this man. "You could have been part of this. You could have been a friend, a bother even, but you could not understand that people are more than a means to an end. Sometimes a family is the end; a family is what we work towards and not just a tool to be exploited."

I wonder at trying to explain family to a man who so clearly does not understand one. Then I pity him again, and I imagine his childhood, what a childhood must be like for someone to hate this much. Did his brothers care, did his mother? He must not have been cared for, especially if he was able to leave the southern Isles after I returned him aboard a prison ship.

I mourn for the man he should have become, the self-assured prince with a smile that broke hearts. A man of honor, a man who did all he could to live up to the great kindness of those before him. He could have been so much. All he could have been was thrown away, because he was thirteenth.

Hanses eyes look lost, his face is hard and angry, as is the rest of his body, but his eyes look lost, lost and scared. He looks as if he wants another option, something different than surrender or die.

"You can stop." I promise, forcing myself to forget the horrible things he has done, forcing my mind to clear of the bruises worming their way to my skin, and the burns scorching up my arms, and the baby I now have to bring in to this world without my consent. "You can be better." I do not know if I believe it. Could he be better? It seems so massively impossible, but I want for it to be true.

I do not want to kill.

"NEVER." Hans shouts, a horrible rage building in his voice. "You can stop, you can give up. BUT I DON'T GIVE UP!"

I watch as Hans runs, not quite seeing the world as I should. He is running, this I know, but it looks so slow, as if he decided to run at a crawl. I see him as he comes to be in front of me and I see his shoulders tighten and his fists clench as he goes to cleave the sword upon my head. I skirt out of the way, cutting it far too close and feeling the sting of cool steel slide past my arm.

I spin around myself, trying to put some distance between Hans and I. He follows me, his sword out in front of him, leading his charge. I realize that I need to do some practice with a shield. A shield would do me well right now. I could most certainly use a shield right now. This was not a good idea.

A sheet of ice springs in to the air and deflects Hanses sword, and then shatters in to small flakes of cold, resting on the ground in a pile of white.

I hear Anna shout and run forward, her face clouded with furry and her sword clumsy and raised. Hans sees her and moves all too fast, swinging around to catch her with his own sword. I decide that I cannot have that. Through instinct, and terror at the thought of losing my sister, I cast up a wind to knock Anna back and out of harm's way, and another sheet of ice to stop Hans from running. Anna does not fly across the room as the guards did, she glides, feet firm on the ground, toward the side of the room where Kristoff, my mother, and Kasper have gathered. I can see the concern for Anna written across Kristoff's face, so I send her straight in to his arms, knowing that he will not let her out of his embrace until he can be sure that she will be safe.

"Don't. Anna, don't." I shout at her, backing away from Hans and again wishing that I had a shield stronger than ice. "Don't die for this. I need to save you. I owe you a family."

"Elsa. Please, stop pretending that I could ever have a family without you. I need you here, I need my sister." Anna begs, struggling against Kristoff's strength.

I ignore her, shutting out my obligation to keep myself safe. I back away from Hans, dragging our battle out in to the center of the ballroom. He is never truly close enough to hurt me, but he does graze me, the end of his sword drawing vibrant strips of dotting blood from my arms and hands. It should sting but it does not. All of me as stopped hurting, though I know my burns still fester, and my shoulder still bleeds.

"Elsa," Hans presses forward, his voice a low growl that rumbles through my chest. "I am going to kill you. You are not going to get out of this. I don't care how strong you think you are, your ice is useless."

He could have been great, I decide. He could have been the perfect leader. I wonder when he was lost, I wonder at which moment in his youth he went as sour as to never be sweet again. I lament the day he stopped valuing human life. What kind of day must it be when one decides that a weighty and uncomfortable throne is worth more than a human life.

Hans reels back and then jams his shoulder in to my chest. The air rushes out of me and I flail to the ground, my arms and legs sprawling everywhere. Hans sneers, delighted at the thought to breaking me before this ends.

I suppose I have given up. I know I cannot kill him, I want to, but I doubt my strength. My ability to take the final breath from a man is sorely lacking. I know that he is not reasonable, and that he is aiming for no such kindness with me, but I cannot fathom a life I would not feel guilty for taking.

"Are you not even going to try? I guess you know there isn't much point to it. Still I would have thought you would have fought just a little bit more. At least you won't have to live with yourself much longer, but your family will be kept around for a while. I like the way your mother screams, it's such a sweet sound. And your sister, I bet I could get a son out of her."

The ground is bitter, and Hans's words are biting. I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my fists in a rhythm, hoping to distract myself, hoping to stop remembering just how awful this is. I can't let Hans kill Anna. I cannot let my mother lose the only freedom she has known in thirteen years.

"Why won't you fight?" Hans hollers at me. Banishing his sword in the air, making a terrifying spectacle of himself. "Don't you want to live? Where is the fire? Oh right, I forgot, you're just ice. There is no passion in ice. Ice melts, slow and painfully. Ice does not win. Fire is too strong."

"You can still stop." I promise one last time, knowing that Hans is not going to stop; he is blind in his ambition, clouded with insanity and has been driven far beyond any place I know.

"NO!" Hans bellows. His face twists and creases and his voice cuts through my skin, pushing past the burns and the slashes and the stab wound in my shoulder, straight to my core. It sits in the center of me, stewing and bubbling. His arms swing up, sword pointed to the ceiling and then falling, falling far too fast. It's going to cleave my head in half.

I imagine my son, the future lined up for me. I see my weeping mother and my broken sister, both soon to be killed after my blood has been spilt.

Then see the other one, the future where I live, and get to live so vibrantly that anything else in unbearable. I see the world that gives me my family. A proper family that is broken, damaged, and so blindingly perfect. Even my child, for the world where I live gives my child the freedom to be a boy or girl, each option given without threat of death.

I wonder at a world where I can take my child on picnics, where I can watch him grow and where he can breathe easy in a world free from Hans. I could enjoy the stupid pointless pleasures of the day, and heal to the point where the thought of warmth does not send me in to a blind panic. The world can be fixed, rarely is anything so far gone that it cannot be fixed. I want to be able to try and fix my world. I want the chance to properly live.

I know that I will not die. I decide that Hans will not be permitted to kill me. My hands fly up, shielding me and my child. My chest burns and ice fills my body, every inch of my soul flaming with winter.

Then silence.

Not a sound breaks the air, everything sets in to quiet, and it solidifies in to thick syrup of nothing. I dare not look up. I keep my gaze focused on the polished wood grain of the ground.

I am still not dead.

How am I alive?

I take the deepest breath I can, letting it fill my lungs and cast away the fear. Then I chance a glance up, and my blood runs cold.

Hans is still where he was, poised with his sword over his head and his eyes glassed over with rage, but his limbs are stuck, frozen in place, and there is a thick knotted spine of ice speared through his chest.

* * *

**Please, please, please, let me know what you thought. Only a few more chapters to go before I set out on the sequel. (Not like that changes anything all that much it's not being uploaded separately its going to be tacked on to the end of the story. (I think.)) **

**New chapter heading your way on the 10th! **

**-Whovian123**

**Aggregate-Dragon: Thank you. Fight scenes are not my strong suit, I need to practice them a little bit more. **

**bexmad: Thank you. Dramatic! You haven't seen anything yet. **

**marvelousgameofdisneythrones: Thank you. Han's never really seemed to be as secure in his standing as he claimed to be... He was a shady dude... **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. I was rather worried about the flashback, having never lived through one myself, it's good to know I gave the appropriate "vibe". **

**musicalocelot: Thank you. Don't worry about it, you are entitled to a life. Yup, everyone knows about the baby, and Kasper is being super cute, but also probably struggling with that baby thing just a little bit... **

**Guest: Thank you. OMG BEST REVIEW EVER (probs) **


	50. Chapter 50

**Hello. I have a nice shiny new chapter here for you. Enjoy.**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

The breath falls out of my chest. I panic. My hands fall away from in front of me. I pull them back in my chest, and then wrap them around my torso; cradling my stomach. I hold my child, son or daughter, secured that I am alive and that my child will have their chance.

I wrestle with the urge to cry. All of me hurts; every cut and every burn. My mind is drained, so horribly out of control in a spiral of confusion. I didn't want to kill. I did not mean to kill him.

I hate myself for killing Hans, and I hate myself for feeling relieved.

I cry. I cry harder than I have in years. It does not help; it does not sort out my feelings, or make anything hurt less. I feel snow land on my shoulders and back, I feel it fall to my burns and coat my cuts. It buries me, gives me the protection from the world that I need. My storm is preserving me from the realities of murder.

There are footsteps all around me. I think I hear voices, but they are distant and beyond recognition. They try to reach me, they grasp at me. I swat at them, I fend them off as I would bugs. When they fail to leave I curl in to myself, hugging my knees and forcing my face away from the world. I wait for the ground to swallow me whole, or at the very least, for the voices and footsteps to go away.

They do not go away. I start shouting at them, yelling and pleading with them to leave me alone. They ignore me. They keep touching me, stroking my back and my hair, trying to touch my face and tell me I am safe, all of the hands are shaking. One of them grazes my shoulder and my mind is overwhelmed with pain. Something deep in my muscle and mixed in with my bone feels like it is ripping and burning all at once.

My eyes are shut and I squeeze them tighter still when the pain begins again. It as if my body forgot how to hurt, and them remembered all at once and is now determined to make up for the pain I missed. Everything I feel feels fuzzy, the barrier of my skin is so battered, bruised, burned, and sliced that it starts to feel as if it is breaking apart. It feels as if I am floating away.

Every muscle in my body feels like it is on fire and then everything falls away, like I am falling asleep. Maybe I am falling asleep, I feel so tired. Everything is swimming; my senses are dancing around turning on and off. I try to hold on to something, in my panic I feel fingers wrap around one of my flailing hands. I hold tight to the fingers, needing to feel something that is not blazing pain.

The world slips away.

Then I feel a rocking motion. With the rocking motion comes a soothing voice and a warm feeling in my chest. The panic flares up, but then falls away again.

"Elsa, everything is going to be ok." Someone tells me. "Kristoff is finding a doctor, he'll be back soon. We are going to take care of you; I promise I will take care of you." The voice reveals itself to be male as I focus on the words that break through the haze of my mind.

Then another voice starts talking, a female one that sounds a lot like Anna. "It's over, Elsa, you killed him. It's all over. You don't have to worry anymore, he can't hurt you. He's gone." I try to open my eyes; I want to look at the world, to look at Anna's face, anyone's face. I want to see something.

Everything is too bright and the light drills in to my head and leaves me with a sharp pain and a dull ache. I give up on my eyes. They are not important. There are much more important things that I need to deal with, such as the pain everywhere.

"It hurts." My voice is strained, weak, and pitiful. "Everything hurts." The thrill of fighting has worn off and all of me is drained. I want to sleep. I wish the pain would stop long enough for me to sleep.

"Honey, stay with us, please?" My mother's voice hovers in front of me. "You lost a lot of blood, you need to stay awake. Sweetie? Please tell me you can hear me." I try to tell my mother that I can hear her. I want to alleviate the worry in her voice, but all I can manage is a gurgle and a moan.

"I promise the pain will go away." She continues. "You have to keep fighting."

"Here, she's in here." I hear Kristoff shouting, then I hear a door being thrown open and I assume that he has found a doctor of sorts. I can't imagine why there would still be medical staff in the castle, maybe they were called in to action after the fire, to make sure that everyone was safe and that there were no life threatening burns. I wince and I realise that the guests are going to be furious about the fire come morning, though it expected they shall also have quite a lot to say about Hanses murder.

"Has she been able to communicate?" A new voice asks.

"She complained about the pain, but that's it." My mother says.

"She's pregnant; please make sure the baby is ok." Anna begs.

All of the voices after that drift together. I am aware only of the pulsing pain everywhere and the arms holding me. The rocking has stopped and I wish my mouth would work long enough for me to beg that it be started again.

Then there are new hands on me, hands that do not shake. This fingers move with precision, assessing my many wounds and flaring minimal pain. I think there is more talking, maybe even shouting, but it is as if I am hearing it through water and a wall. Nothing is clear, and then it stops.

The rocking is back, but not a deliberate kind, the type that is accompanied by walking. All of me is sore, but I can manage it. There is pressure on my wounds, bandages wrapped around them, keeping the blood I need, where it ought to be. I curl in to the slab of soft warmth and heat that I am pressed against. As I move the hands around me tighten, pulling me in closer, as if in a hug.

I do not open my eyes for fear of pain and brightness. I keep as tight a hold as my protesting, tired, muscles will let me keep of this warmth, this warmth that does not scare me. It does not threaten to melt me, it keeps me safe. It is cool warmth.

Everything is dull and fleeting, but I can focus on the rocking, the soft gentle motion that I associate with the rhythmic waves of the ocean, or the feeling before life, the world inside a womb.

Then the rocking stops. I feel different textures coming to wrap around me and the heat goes away. I moan at the loss, missing, already, the comfort it brings.

"Elsa." Anna whispers at me, her voice soothing and kind. "You are so stupid; you have to stop fighting everything alone. Please. I don't want you to die because you are too proud to ask for help."

I cannot bring my throat to work, there is gravel in it set too deep to come loose anytime soon, but I dissect all of Anna's words. For the first time, in all my life, I wonder if maybe people do want to help. Maybe I am not alone, maybe I have never been.

The pain sends all pleasant thoughts from my head and my back seizes up and twists all the muscles throughout my body in to painful knots. I discover that the gravel can fall away as I let out a scream, and then descend in to pathetic full body sobs that do nothing to quell the pain.

"Honey," I voice that I know to be my mother's talks near me, "Honey, can you hear me? I mumble nonsense and thrash the slowest anyone has ever thrashed, my muscles protesting against every movement with a deep-seated ache. "Please, I know it hurts, but try to listen? OK?" I cannot let her know that I am trying my utmost to focus on her voice, and that she is the only thing keeping me from screaming at the onslaught of my senses, my voice will not allow it.

"I know that you are strong enough to handle this. What are burns to ice? You will heal; this family would not be here unless healing was our strong suit." Her voice is weary. I wonder if she has let anyone look at her arm. How long was I drifting and flitting about through conscious? She needs a doctor far more urgently than I possibly could have. I need to tell her to look after herself, but my mouth is full of a thousand unsaid words.

"Please, honey, _I _know that you are going to be ok, but, could you just let me know that you know it too, mothers spend all hours worrying for no reason at all…" She trails away, and I know that I have to do something, I owe it to her. I squeeze my eyes as shut as their lids allow and I hold my jaw tight and stiff. My shoulder screams against the calculated use I am subjecting it to, but I need to lift my arm and a shoulder is required for such things.

My fingers curl around the one hand my mother has left, I can feel the bones sticking out against her weathered skin. I pull our entwined hands toward my stomach and I curl around them, no longer strong enough to resist the urge to roll in to myself. Maybe it is my mother's reassurance that allows me to return to the state of a babe.

I try not to picture his face, so full of focus and rage, yet so listless and dead. I do not want him to lurk in the corners of my dreams, turning them to nightmares. I do not want to relive the events of my wedding night every time I drift away. I want to be strong enough to survive the memory of a dead man, for I am living and he is not. I am safe here, but I cannot quite convince the shadowed corners of my mind that safe is a reality I can now entertain.

What if he is not dead, what if he cannot be killed and he is waiting for the perfect moment to strike down my unsuspecting family. Where are the guards, his guards, what happened to them? Did they die too? Or are they locking in that room, trying to break down walls and doors to get at me. Will I be slaughtered as I sleep, left to bleed out with my murdered family that I worked so hard to get.

My panic rises and I become even more of a mess. My fingers nearly slip out of my mother's grip, but she holds tighter and keeps my grounded. I allow her to become my lifeline. I do not know where I would be without her, but I am very sure it would not be fun.

There is snow in the air, I am sure of it. I can feel the bitter cold building in me. I know that control is slipping out of my grasp. Frost will be sprinting across all surfaces it can manage, ingraining itself in to the cracks of the wood, and skating across the glass of the windows as fast as a lightning strike.

Another voice starts talking, or maybe it is the same one and it never stopped. All I know is that everything has started to make a great deal less sense than it did a moment ago. My senses come apart at the seams again, and my mind turns off with the lingering sensation of my fingers tight around my mother's seeing me off to unconsciousness.

* * *

**What did you think? Let me know with a review.**

**The next chapter will be delayed by five days, so expect it on the 20th. **

**-Whovian123**

**(Review replies will be edited in on the 17th (I am on vacation and the keyboard on my phone is no place to edit and type. I have already accidentally deleted an embarrassing amount of stuff.))**


	51. Chapter 51

**Hello. How are doing? I have a new chapter here for you. Lets get on with it shall we?**

**-Whovian123**

* * *

Everything is sore, far sorer than should be possible for the living. Am I still one of the living? Last I checked I was willing to die, but I also wasn't. I fought to live. I killed to live. Too much rushes back all at once and I groan in to the silence around me.

My groan stirs up a flurry of motion and several fast whispers. I cannot focus on the words. I try to open my eyes, seeing feels strange, as if I have spent too much time refusing to look and now that I am, my eyes have forgotten what it is too focus. Shapes seem too uncertain and the lighting is low and flickering.

I shut my eyes, blocking the world from my reality.

"Elsa?" A timid, almost scared voice asks from my left.

"Anna?" I groan back, able to speak, and think, well enough to know it is her and respond in kind. I hear a relieved laugh and several, far calmer, whispers. "Where am I? I can't remember anything after…" I trail away. The tips of my fingers tingle and the muscles in my chest pull tight against my heart.

"You're in your room." My mother's voice tells me. "Honey, nothing in here is going to hurt you. I promise." She sounds better than she did before. I can still hear the weary mumble of an ex-prisoner in her voice, but she does sound better.

"How long has it been?" I do not try to count the hours, not yet able to bear the thought of sight.

"You slept straight through the day." She coos soft and sweet as she has ever been. "The doctor wrapped what he could find, he said you seemed to be fine, aside from the surface wounds." Her voice, morphs for a moment, strains as she discusses my injuries. "He said it is all a matter of you getting strength back." Her voice loses all of its strained quality, and reverts back to the soft mothering tone that I crave. "How do you feel?"

"I'm afraid to open my eyes." I confess.

"Why?" Anna asks from somewhere to my side.

"Because… I... seeing… will make it... real." I try to find a word for the feeling of dread that rests heavy on the idea of opening my eyes. When I open them I will have to face the repercussions of the months past. When I take in the faces around me I will have to talk about Hans, what he has done, to me and my country, and we will have to discuss our obvious security issue. Then the matter of Hanses body and the moral implications that come along with doing anything but sending it back home to the Southern Isles.

I do not want to deal with the world and the worries that come along with it. I want to exist in this bubble, this space between problems. I want to be able to love my family before I march off in to council meetings, and launch wide spread investigations in to all my guard and the armies of Arendelle. I want to take several moments and breathe without the bricks weighing against my chest.

Politics will be a charged and tense game to play when the Southern Isles receive word of Hanses death. They cared not for the Thirteenth Prince in life, but in death he shall be a martyr. Political relations with them have been apprehensive since I made the rash decision to cut all trade with them, the death of their royal will bring with it a wave of hate and many kinds of threats.

I clench my fist and burry my nails deep in to my palm as I think of Hans. Confliction bounds through my soul, taking what I thought was concrete fact and flipping it so drastically as to change all I knew, and to give me a headache even before I have opened my eyes.

To my horror I start to cry.

I do not want to cry, not here, not now, not ever. I want to be stronger than this. I do not want a foul man's death to bring tears to my eyes. I want to be heartless. I turn in to myself, curling up around my stomach, hoping for more strength.

There is none to be found. Instead the tears come faster, it as if a damn has been broken and all of my worries and sorrows that have built up are steaming through my eyes and down my face, leaving me gasping for air and clawing at my chest.

Anna and my mother coo around me. Telling me that it is all ok now, explaining that it is over, and that the dead cannot haunt me. They are fools, it is not over, and it will never be over. The dead can haunt far more fiercely than the living and I will have a reminder of this patch of life every time I look to my child.

My body shakes and retches at the turmoil. With each heaving sob numbness sets in, more and more my body goes bank. I do not know if it is my brain deciding not to feel, but I hope it is. I plead with the world to turn my pain away and let me drift thoughtlessly though life. I cannot manage more pain, more hate.

I do not know how I manage it, but I stop weeping. Crying is not necessary now; I can do it some other time, when I am alone. I soon begin to panic for another set of reasons. The guests, the castle, and all the fire damage will need to be dealt with. My country is in a terrible economic state if I am to believe what I have been told over the last few months. I will have to explain to the nation why I married Hans, and then why I killed him. Will they accept my excuses? Will there be revolt once they hear my desperate struggle for a family.

I beg and plead for answers to everything in rapid-fire, and utterly nonsense, questions. "Where is Hanses body? Are their angry guests at the door? Have the citizens been informed of anything?" I voice rises in pitch as I begin to panic, still resisting the urge to open my eyes.

"Honey," my mother's voice explains, "I ran this country with your father for quite a while, I can manage it for one day."

I sink in to the bed, content with that. She is a monarch like no other, my mother, she understands people far better than I ever well. Leaving the country in her care does not worry me, she can have it back indefinitely if she so desires. Through from the weary undertone tainting her voice I doubt she will take me up on the offer.

"Have you gotten any sleep?" I ask, finally daring to open my eyes and take in the world. The room is dark, and familiar. The curtains are drawn back, letting beams of crystal moonlight grace the floor. Anna looks largely herself, aside from a thick bandage on her upper arm and a small scab on her cheek bone, she seems to have avoided injury.

My mother is a little worse for wear, her eyes have heavy circles weighing underneath them, and what remains of her right arm is shorter than I remember it being, and bandaged so thickly that it resembles a club far more than an arm.

"No." She answers, unconcerned with herself.

"You need to sleep." I insist. "You're in a state, please; get some sleep before you hurt yourself. I didn't do all of this so that you could run yourself in to the ground because you refused to sleep."

She looks vaguely ashamed, and wholly scared. "Elsa, when you spend four years in prison, what kind of dreams do you think a person has?"

I hold my tongue. I do not have something to say that will make that better. I cannot help her to forget the horrors of imprisonment, the memory of losing her husband, or the pain of a half arm. She does not ask me for kind words, we have moved beyond trying to tell each other that we need not worry. There is much to worry of, the only concession in our worry is that we may worry together, and together we many triumph.

I look away from her and deeper in to the room. There is a mass, a mass that is breathing in slow, calculated, and shallow breaths. "Kasper?" I ask, wondering why he is here, and furthermore, why he is sheltered in shadows.

He nods, chancing a step forward, looking horribly nervous. "How do you feel?"

"Not terribly well."

He shifts, still noticeably nervous. He looks to my mother and to Anna, seeking reassurance. "He-You- You really are going to have a baby?" He blurts out, looking nowhere but my eyes.

"Yes," I stare back at him, nearly ashamed, and a little bit scared, "I am."

"You're going to make a wonderful mother." He chances a half smile, looking down to my stomach and then back to my eyes.

I feel at sting in the back of my eyes, the sting of tears trying to return. "Thank you. It's frightening, to a degree. I never thought much about children and now I have to tackle parenthood alone." I confess to the room.

"Elsa," Anna sighs, "You are not alone. I will keep telling you until you finally listen and understand that you have a family that refuses to let you go it alone."

I smile at Anna. "I know, but it takes a while to force yourself in to the team mindset. For a long while I was alone." I try to explain why my gut reaction is to always feel as if I have to deal with my problems alone. Why when I hurt I turn inward to endure instead of outward to express.

Though, I suppose maybe I never was as alone as I thought. Surly Anna would never have run from me if I had decided one day, in a fit of lunacy, to venture from the safe haven of my room and in to the halls of the castle. I regret that I never did dare try to break free from the confines I had given myself. It took a disastrous coronation to keep me from concealment.

I wiggle about in my bed, trying it sit up but soon finding that moving sparks a cascading pain all through my body, peaking in my mangled shoulder, and my burns. I let out an instinctual hiss and brace my body. Anna, my mother, and Kasper are all quick to reprimand me for being so careless and remind me that the country is fine and I can take the next little while to recuperate.

I submit.

My mother settles in to a chair, her skin pale and her eyes drooping with the fatigue of no sleep and past horrors. With her follows Kasper who also seems to be fighting the early stages of tiredness. The moment he sits down his eyes fall shut and his head slumps to the side. Anna decides, as there are no more chairs in my sparse room due to the infrequency with which I play host to guest, that she must crawl in to bed with me. I welcome her presence, the weight at my side. Something to remind me that nightmares are false and that the world can hold the wonder of a dream.

I am not waiting, stranded in my room, hoping for my powers to either consume me whole, or leave me be. I am living with them; they are as part of me as breathing, and I love them just as much. I do not have a family that cowers in fear when I am near; they protect me and fight for me. I am safe, and I am whole.

Though in the minutes before I fall asleep, that moment in which you know you are gone, but you can still see the world, I remember his face; cold, bitterly so, and fighting to slaughter me. I see him, standing in the ballroom, silhouetted by the moon light, pools of crystalline light draped around his feet.

I fall away in to dreams with my heart hammering and my eyes rushing about in panic. He will haunt me, he will haunt as fiercely as any ghost ever could. He dances behind my eyelids and settles in to the forefront of my mind and decides that he shall make a new home there.

* * *

**Did you like it? Let me know with a review! **

**I'll have a new chapter up for you on the 25th. **

**-Whovian123**

**Iceleaf13: Thank you for reviewing... Sorry... **

**Guest: Thank you so much. I can't wait to write more.**

**csi-cameron: Thank you. Me neither. **

**Aggregate Dragon: Thank you so much. Nicely reviewed. ;) **

**bexmad: Thank you. Don't worry, Elsa is a strong one. **

**Phill: Thank you. It's always bittersweet getting caught up. **


	52. Chapter 52

**Hello. I'm back with another chapter for you. I don't anything all that interesting to say prior to the chapter. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen.**

* * *

When I wake up it is to the soft and gentle weight of my sister tucked in to my side, and the sun forcing itself through the windows. The angle tells me that it cannot be anything but the earliest of mornings. I focus on Anna's steady breathing. It is comfort incarnate, it reminds me how marvellously alive both she, and myself, are.

The rest of the room looks remarkably as it always has; perfectly normal and beautifully safe. I study, first the face of Anna, and then the face of my mother. Both of them rest, content with the word and our new lot in life. I take note of the fragile smile gracing Anna's features and wonder at what dreams she may be dancing through.

I survey what remains of the room and notice that Kasper, though sitting still and breathing in the most calculated and slow fashion, is not asleep. When my gaze settles on to him I watch his neck tense and his shoulders shift. He can see that I have noticed his awareness; he can see that I am not fooled by him.

For a moment I consider speaking. I contemplate breaking the spell of a silent morning. I do not. We watch each other, both knowing that words are not quite right now. We pretend that it is to avoid waking the others; we feign obliviousness at the things left unsaid between us.

Watching is easy, terribly easy. The rise as fall of his chest are simple things to notice, the slight whisper of air through his parted lips comes to sooth me and assuage the tension that builds in my shoulders as I remember the past months.

In short, we wait.

My left arm is numb; Anna has tucked her body in such a way that my shoulder has been pinched for the better part of the night. I attempt the slightest of wiggles, a desperate attempt to force life back in to my fingertips, but it is to no anvil as Anna groans and shifts at my slight movements. I see his face, Kaspers face; take on the smallest of smiles as he watches me struggle with the urge to move my numb arm.

I huff and his eyes light up with joy. Undignified I take a moment to stick my tongue out at him, he does not sense the gravity of my dilemma and supresses the beginning of a chuckle. We dare not make noise; yet proceed to laugh with each other, our mirth coming forth in silent open mouths.

He sets his chair in to a chorus of creaks as he stands up, stalling crouched over the chair to let silence fall once again and to ensure that neither Anna, nor my mother, had woken at the sound. Seeing that they are both silent and asleep, Kasper advances toward the bed. The floorboards echo the singing of the chair and he pauses and flinches with each drawn out shriek of wood.

Once next to my bed, he crouches. Our eyes are level as I strain my neck, trying not to shift Anna, but having to stretch odd muscles to keep my body one way, and my head another. We still do not speak, instead we re-engage in our staring. Both our bodies rigid and our breath mixing together in the small sliver of space between our faces.

"You still look tired." I break the silence, desperate to release this coiling in my chest.

"I haven't gotten proper sleep in the last two days." Kasper confesses, no blush tinting his cheeks. He is honest, brash, and feels no need for shame. I revel in the truth his voice holds.

"I'm sorry." I whisper back.

"Don't be." Kasper insists, his hushed tone raw and riveting. "I would go without sleep for years to make you feel safe, to keep you from hurting. I will do all I can to protect you and your baby." His eyes are bold. In spite of his honest tone I doubt his words.

"Please don't make promises." I beg, my voice nearing its normal volume. "Please, I can't take another promise."

Kasper nods, his head bobbing up and down, slow. He crouches lower still and comes to sit upon the ground. He backs himself in to the wall and waits, looking not at me or my bed, but at the wall opposite me. We wait like this again, not talking. We do stare, that has not stopped, but we do not stare at each other.

My mother stirs first. She moves her shoulders, and then her arms. Before long she is stretching as a cat would against the confines of her chair. She does not worry at the sounds of her chair, or of the creaking floorboards, as she moves across the room. She smiles at me and I smile back.

"Are you feeling better?" She asks, her voice low, though not quite a whisper. I nod, not wanting to speak. "I'm glad. We cannot put off the world forever, you will need to address the people, the guests, announce and explain what has happened."

"The body." I choke the words out. "It needs to be sent back, sent back to his family." It is horribly strange to consider Hanses family. They feel so alien in my mind. They are something that I fear undoubtedly. A family, a group of people that can send one of their own so deeply in to madness, what must they be. How will they react to his death, his murder?

"I'll take care of it." My mother sooths, reaches down to brush my hair from my face and smooth is back in to place. Her fingers are warm. "I'll take care of you."

Sentimental tears threaten me. I do beat them, but they drain me. As my mother leaves the room I am left to breath deep breaths to chase the salt that rests in the back of my throat out of me. It does leave. It creeps away from me as I stare at the roof, as I trace the wood grain of the beams stretching above me.

"Do you want me to leave?" Kasper asks. His voice still a whisper, no longer a whisper for others, a whisper for himself. He does not want to be heard, but he still feels he must speak.

"Do you want to leave?"

"No."

I say nothing, hoping that he stays. Praying that he does not decide he should leave. We are not speaking, we are not sitting comfortable together, we are sitting away from each other, and he does not leave. He stays, without a word. He waits with me, as Anna sleeps, and he is honest.

Anna wakes up with time. She comes back to this world as slowly as one can. Her breath gaining the irregularities of wakefulness, and her weight moving from my pinched arm, the blood rushes back and the feeling follows soon after.

She groans and twists at all angles, stretching the muscles that coil as one sleeps. "Sleep well?" I ask.

"Very much so." She responds. Hopping up from the bed and offering me the help of her hand. "Come on; let's get you out of bed. You need to get moving." I contemplate her hand; debate, internally, the pros and cons of rejoining the world.

Several floorboards creek and I see Kasper standing up, straightening his shirt and giving me a small smile. "The world cannot wait forever, we will be with you." He calls back to his promise, dancing around the idea of him protecting me and being there. I remind myself that he is a guest and that he could leave any day.

I take Anna's hand and allow her to help me from the bed. I can think of goodbyes later, now is not the time. We move through the castle at a remarkably slow pace. My shoulder fights with me against all movement, and my arms still feel as if they have only just begun to burn. All the fine cuts littering my arms are as large paper cuts across me, making my skin stretch and contort in uncomfortable ways.

We do not come across guests, which I am grateful for. They must all be sequestered in a different wing of the castle, one much farther from the fire damage. I expect they will all be clamoring for answers and demanding to see some sort of authority. I do hope they can maintain their presumed level of understanding for a while longer.

I could not manage a barrage of questions. I cannot handle the soft mourning eyes that will follow the news of Hanses death, and I will break at the angry and accusing eyes that will be thrown my way when the circumstance of his death is revealed.

We walk to a room, one with a door I do not fully recognise. Inside is rather lackluster. There are windows of the typical sort and a desk with several chairs on both sides. Three shelves line the wall, all of which are piled with books too plentiful to fit. The room is finished with a large rug splayed out in the center of the floor; it is a circular thing with triangles and a wonderful large spiral.

My mother, Kristoff, Kia, and Gerda are all sitting around the desk, there are papers of all sorts being shuffled between the four of them, and worried looks that cling to their faces even when they look up and greet me with smiles.

"You should be in bed," my mother insists, "you've been under so much stress, you need to look out for the baby." My hand, the one not afflicted with a mangled shoulder, lurches up to my stomach, and comes to rest against the swell that betrays me. It is not noticeable, not with the veil of my loose dress, but when the time comes for me to change I am going to have to face it.

"I can't, my mind needs me to be somewhere else." I feel a slight panic creep in to my voice at the thought of being forced back in to my room. "Please, let me stay here. I can help. I don't know as much as you, but what I do know is more current." My voice rises and my breath comes in rasping gasps. "Don't leave me alone with myself. I can't be alone with myself."

My mother rushes from her chair, and, once close enough, pulls me against her with her one good arm. She coos in to the side of my face. I cling to her, desperate to quell the tremor that is wreaking havoc throughout my frame. "We won't." She promises. "We won't ever make you feel alone. I will protect you. That's my job, keeping you safe."

I listen to her words, play them back again in my head as I am offered Kristoff's place at the table, and then once more as I stare at the documents in front of me. I wonder at what it will mean for my child. Can I promise that to it? Will I be able to keep it safe, will I be able to make it feel safe?

"In light of recent events, is it wise to allow for another country's prince to have access to information this sensitive?" Kia asks, his fingers splayed over the papers and his eyes intent on the uncomfortable looking Kasper.

"I-I-no." He stammers. "I haven't done anything."

"There was always a time in which great villains had not done anything." Kia retorts, his intent not cruel, merely cautious in the face of such recent tragedy.

"No." Kasper protests again. "Please. I'm not going to do anything. Politics don't mean anything to me."

"Then why are you so intent on being here?" Kristoff questions, having decided that Kaspers presence is rather unorthodox and suspicious.

"I- Well- She- I don't want to leave her alone." Kasper explains, his eyes roaming around the room for the first half of his sentence and then coming to settle on me for the final words.

"She isn't alone." Anna reminds Kasper, her hand coming to rest on my shoulder as she waits behind the back of my chair. "She's safe here. This country is not a stable one now. Foreign princes are still rather controversial. I don't think you are dangerous, but I do think that it would be best if you left the room, simply for the peace of mind it will bring."

Kasper takes stuttering steps, further in to the room, and then back toward the door; then, without a single word, bows out of the room.

Kia and Gerda return to hushed whispers and rapid pointing at papers, while Anna and Kristoff share a soft moment in which I am witness to the impossibly tender hug the bulky ice harvester pulls Anna in to.

"I trust him." I turn to my mother, speaking without thinking. "I really do trust him. I know it doesn't seem a good idea, but Kasper and Hans do not feel of the same world, I cannot imagine two men more opposite each other."

"I do not doubt your judgment," my mother whispers, careful to not disturb Kia and Gerda, "but tensions are high and he must prove, through actions such as this, this, that he can indeed be trusted. I suspect he has realized as much. That was probably the only reason he dared leave your side."

With her careful observation hanging in the air she turns back to Kia and Gerda and joins in there discussion, which I now know to be of the guard and who ought to be trusted and how to deal with the men Hans has left behind. I am glad for the wiser heads at the table, as I do not know how to deal treason on such a scale as this, and am in no mind to figure it out alone.

* * *

**Care to let me know what you thought with a review? **

**Next chapter will be up on the 30th. **

**I realized, yesterday, that this is where I was going to originally end the fict. I never anticipated that in the wake of Hanses death I would still have so much story to tell. So never fear there are still many chapters to go. **

**-Whovian123**

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Yes, quite alot of healing for everybody all around.**

**Cupcake: Oooh. A new reader. Thank you so much for reviewing. Hanses brothers will not be happy at all. **


	53. Chapter 53

**Hello all, I'm back and we move forward a bit in this chapter. We are pushing past the recent lull and will be heading in to more action soon. I promise.**

**-Whovian123**

* * *

"What do I say?" I worry in to the air, wishing for an answer to fall from the heavens. "How do I explain that you are here, alive, when they are so sure that you are not?"

"Tell them the truth. They are dignitaries; they can sallow most anything a queen tells them. It is the citizens that will cause chaos." My mother explains. She looks far more herself than she has since I discovered her to be alive. She is clad in a comforting purple that is distinctly her, and, with no small amount of help on account of her lack of hands, has twisted her grey streaked brown hair in to a bun. With little effort I can convince myself that she has walked out of my childhood and is about to tell Anna and I to stop making snowmen and return to our beds, for the night is late and our morning is filled to the brim with plans.

"How much of the truth?" I whisper, my hand tracing the curvature nestled in my stomach. She watches it; my mother keeps her eyes trained on Anna and I at all moments of the day, not seeming to trust in her freedom or our safety. Anna marches forward at my side, with Kristoff, Kia, Gerda, and Kasper, Kia having decided that Kasper can accompany us for the sake of convincing the guests of our sincerity, all consecutively lined beside her.

"All of it. Typically we would throw a ball, a whole night of good food and dancing, an unforgettable celebration for a life that will forever rest in history. Circumstances cannot always allow for such joviality"

"What about when they start yelling? Hans was smart, not a genius, but wise enough to invite guests that hung on his every word. They will not be compelled to believe me."

"We do not give them the choice of doubt. We stand by our truth; every word of it will withstand the scrutiny of a skeptical man. If you, or my grandchild, receives any threat of any sort, we shall see to it that they are sent out to sea and forbidden from returning." My mother explains. "Men seek sense; we have far more than Hans ever had."

I fall in to silence. All of what she says makes sense, I doubt none of it. I objected to revealing the truth of my torture so soon, Gerda and Kristoff had been the two to think it up, deciding that the guests were causing far too much trouble and that the sooner they had answers the sooner we could send them home in the dawning spring.

It is still decidedly winter, simply less so than it had been. Springs in Arendelle are undetectable for all but the most seasoned gardener.

"Well you be with me?" I whisper at Anna, my voice sounding all too desperate.

"Of course."

"I can't do it on my own; I won't be able to explain to them why…how… that he's dead. I… I'm so scared Anna." I stumble, my feet getting caught on one another and my mind wandering to angry mobs and furious eyes.

"Don't be." Anna clasps her hand around my own. "I know you will be any way, because that's just the way you are, but you really mustn't be. You are an excellent queen." I focus on her fingers, entwined with mine and terribly reassuring.

"Thank you." It is easier with Anna, she makes everything marvellously simple. She does not worry; she does not dwell on the possible terrors of unlikely scenarios. With her I am grounded, I am not thinking of Hans, the things he has done, or the things he almost did. I can forget that he threatened Anna's life more times than I can bear to count.

Anna simply squeezes my hand tighter.

During the meeting it had been deduced that a small portion of the guard was still loyal to Arendelle, some that had slipped past Hanses overhaul or had been deemed too unimportant to replace with a bought and paid for thug. Hanses men seem to have largely run, or surrendered, when he was killed. It did not take long for the rumor of his murder to spread, minutes at most, and a man loyal only to money would not stay to seek truth.

The remaining loyal guards have sequestered the guests in the dinning fall. The guests are under the impression that a mundane meeting is about to start, something simple and meaningless in the long-term. Perhaps it will all be rather meaningless to some of them. I do hope that it is rather mundane and unimportant to most everyone. I do not want to feel an attraction for them all to gawk at.

As the door approaches I feel my heartbeat quicken. Ice prickles at my skin, it seeps out to the air in small curling wisps of frost. I do not want to do this, and more so, I do not think I can do this. How can I ever explain to these people, these sophisticated dignitaries, the horrible things Hans has done. Will I be branded a fool? Will my name, in the books of future history, become Elsa the Fool Queen of Arendelle?

Anna shivers, I can feel it in her hand, it flows through her body in a violent jerk that she does not do well in hiding. I rip my hand from hers as if it has turned to white hot iron. Not now, I cannot lose control now. I need as much control as I can have for this.

I draw myself away from our cluster of good doers, and reaching hands; hands that only want to help but always end up doing the opposite. My back connects with a wall and I am sure that an angry web of ice has shot out from behind me and is wrapping its way around the hallway.

My hands feel thick, and coated, I fight to pull them in to fists and then bring them to my chest, away from where I may hurt someone. I can feel it; it swirls in my chest, it rages and pulses against every wound on my body.

Anna is trying to talk to me, trying to touch me. She never thinks, she is going to get hurt. I am going to hurt her. "No." I force through the ice lining my throat. "No, don't. Don't come near me." I grind my teeth and hold my shoulders tight and close to my body.

It feels like am falling apart; peeling away from myself with the stripes of frost falling from me. I am lost within myself, so utterly panicked that I cannot convince any part of myself that anything will be ok. The general populace has never been kind to me or my eccentricities; I cannot imagine they will take kindly to a murder and an heir conceived so forcefully.

They are clamoring about themselves, not sure what to do, trying to decide if they are foolish enough to try and help me. Kristoff has his arms around Anna, holding her back. He is smart, he understands that ice is dangerous; he understands what happens to Anna when she does not think.

"Elsa." My mother, of course it is my mother, says. She is foolish enough to never give up on me; she is stubbornly dedicated to keeping me from consuming myself. I cannot possibly love her enough. "Elsa, honey, I don't know what it's like, I don't know how much it might hurt, or tear you up inside, but I know how strong you are. You and your sister are so very strong, nothing as simple as this could ever beat you."

I know I am not strong enough, though, her resilient trust in my strength is a comfort. I wonder if I will have such faith in my child. "Mama, I feel so broken." I whisper, not loud enough for the others to hear, hardly loud enough for me to hear, but I know my mother has heard. She always hears, without fail, exactly what she needs to hear.

My fingers uncurl and come to that soothing spot over my stomach. Imagining a heartbeat I calm myself. It is not simply me I fail when I spiral in to the wall so desperately, it is my child. My mother's fingers come to touch my cheek, soft and nearly not there at all. "You are brave, I know you do not think it, but I plead with you to have faith in yourself just as I do. I know that you are greater than pain, and suffering."

Her fingers skate across the lonely tear falling down my cheek, then come to rest over my own hands. She feels the curve, the vague distension that shall soon come to be all too noticeable. I feel my heartbeat begin to calm, and soon return to its normal rhythm.

I fight and struggle with my tongue and teeth to work. "Ok." I try to make sense of myself and, perchance, understand why others insist on having such unwavering faith in me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lose control, it's..." I offer hopelessly. I feel an absolute mess but refuse to spend too much time on the thought.

"You don't have to apologize." My mother insists.

I push away from the wall, and look around, embarrassed at the snow laced ground. The windows have frosted over, the walls are slick, and the ground crunches with crystalline cold. Anna rushes to my side, using her slight frame to wiggle from Kristoff's grasp. She plows in to me, knocking me off balance, but not off my feet. I wrap my arms around her and she does the same to me. For several moments we just breathe, in and out in a perfect disjointed melody.

"I'm so proud of you, Elsa." Anna says.

"Why?" I ask, bewildered.

"Because you're still here. Because you keep fighting, even when I know you think you can't."

"Thank you." I struggle to find the words at first, my mind and voice failing me in the face of such kindness in the face of my weakness.

Stepping back from Anna and her embrace I see that both Kia and Gerda both have a hand on Kasper, clasping his arms and resting a hand on his chest to keep him from doing something reckless. They let their tight hold on him fall away but he does not bolt to my side, he takes slow and calculated steps with eyes that look lost and desperate.

He stops when I can feel his breath, a soft heat, against my forehead. "Are you ok?" He asks.

"No."

He nods. Then, which terribly tense movements he reaches down and takes my hand, intertwining each of my fingers with his. His hand feels incredibly oversized in mine. "I know you don't want me to promise things, but I already promised that I will do everything I can to make you feel safe."

"Sometimes there isn't anything anyone can do."

"Then I will be here when you come out on the other side of it. If I can't help you I will wait."

"Don't promise things you can't keep."

Neither of us have the courage to say anything more. Our hands fall apart and I clench my naked fingers, setting my jaw and deciding that I have no other choice but to face the angry royals behind the door. It is easy enough to open the door, and just as so to step through. It is impossible to take any steps toward the confused and disgruntled faces that snap to face me the moment the door makes a sound, but becomes as simple as breathing when Anna's hand slips in to mine.

I can hear my breath. The room is too silent. I cannot decide if I prefer this, or the idea of every dignitary shouting, screaming, and demanding answers to everything that no longer makes sense to them. Instead they wait, they stand watching, patient, and desperate for me to say something that will restore their worlds to worlds of sense and logic.

"Hans Westerguard is dead." I hate the way my voice sounds; I hate the quake in it. I hate that I am not the resilient queen my mother is, and I am terrified of the murmurs that breath through the crowd. "He was killed two nights ago." After that there are several moments of silence, and then uproar.

People shout and call. "Murder?" Several voices call out "Are we safe?" Then everything dissolves as bodies jostle bodies and the volume climbs higher and higher. I stumble backward, tripping over my feet and using my hand, still anchored, in Anna's to keep myself upright.

My mother moves forward, launching herself in to the sights of the mounting mob. "Silence." She speaks with commanding grace and soft sincerity that leave no option for disobedience, but does not leave you feeling ordered about. She is heard throughout the hall, not a soul speaks, thick silence, stunned silence, coats all surfaces. "Please be seated, everything will be explained in due time, I can assure you that you are not in danger."

"You were dead; I sailed for five weeks to see you in to the next life." A women speaks, a noble, someone's wife perhaps.

"Your queen will enlighten you all, I implore you to listen to her and resist judgment until she has explained the finer details of this peculiarity." My mother redirects the numerous stares my way and I wish, not for the first time, that I was able to fall in to walls and disappear.

I look back, searching for comfort and confidence in Anna's eyes. She squeezes my hand and offers an encouraging smile. My feet carry me forward, having seemed to decide that I am ready to take on the task of explaining the deceit of the past months.

I stammer and balk. My hand stays in Anna's the entire time as I use her to ground me, and to keep my sense of up and down attuned. My eyes flit from face to face, trying to focus but not wanting to be seen. The start eludes me, where does one begin such a tale. I go far too back in the past and explain, a brief summary, the events of my coronation. I jump about, explaining that Hans was not the man he said he was, and that he has not, in recent history, ever been the man he said he was.

My chest tightens as I recall the night of Anna's engagement ball, the first night of this new ordeal. I tell the tale of my time on the boat; I explain that both my mother and my father were being held captive. Then I explain the set of rules and demands Hans laid out for me if I wanted my parents free again.

I detail the sting of every slap, and the ache of every bruise. With each word I outline what kind of man Hans was when he disappeared around the corner and could no longer be seen. Every threat is spelled out to my audience, they know of every fear I felt and every moment I doubted myself.

As I explain my wedding, the threats behind the vows, and the tragedy of a life slipping away because of trivial mistakes, my voice begins to waver. I do not want to tell the story of what comes after a wedding. I do not want people to know what I did, what I was made to do. I fall back in to nervous stammering and useless panic. I cannot afford to lose control, not in here. In here they would scream, they would run, they would tell their countries of monstrous ice and snow. They would sympathize with The Southern Isles.

Anna notices. Anna hears the shaking and feels the quiver in my hand. She knows that I need to be reassured, that I have forgotten my family stands behind me. She grips my hand tighter and gives me something to cling to, a memory now that will stop me from falling in to the memories of the past.

I tell the dining hall of my wedding night, of the vicious things Hans forced on to me.

I recall the moments I saw my mother's arm without my mother attached to the end. My heart leaps in to my throat and I remember the days that do not lie so far in the past, yet feel so long ago, the day in which Anna and I decided that we deserved a day away. I remember the final branding, and I tell of the fire.

The fire and the rescue, both impulsive acts of recklessness that, thorough a miracle, did not have casualties; save for Hans. The dining hall hangs tied to my every word as I describe Hanses final moments, his final flail at kingdom and his futile arrogance that kept him from taking every offer of future I tried to give.

There are tears in my eyes as reveal that I did kill him, and they begin to flow as I explain why. I would not kill, not for myself, but I needed to kill for my child. My baby needed me, before it had even been born. I would not fail my baby so early in its life.

Then I stand; my voice horse and the day run in to the ground with story. The hall waits, not sure of what could possibly come next.

* * *

**Let me know what you thought with a review. **

**I'll have the next chapter up on the 5th. **

**-Whovian123**

**grrrrrrrr :Thank you for your review. I'm not entirely sure what you intended to say, though I respect that some of the internal logic in my story was flawed. Thank you for taking the time to help me improve.**

**WinterKnight2104: Thank you. Sorry for exposing you to wedding night activities. I love it when new readers crop up. And yes, Elsa is having a difficult time with the baby. **


	54. Chapter 54

**Hello readers. I'm back with the aftermath of Elsa's truth session. I'm sure you don't care all that much about my blathering so we'll just jump straight to it. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen.**

* * *

They all have questions, of course they do. I do my best to answer them, but my mother and Anna have to step in several times when it becomes too much. Most of them trust me, the existence of my mother is enough proof for them, but others are much less convinced. I do not blame the skeptics; I would not believe such a wild story had I not lived it.

I do not fear them, I will fear them when they are back in their countries and have access to armies. For now they are my guests and will be treated with the utmost respect as long as they do the same to me. I can ignore the glares.

With time the guests clear out. They are contented with what they know, and I am content to keep the few secrets I have left as my own. I feel exposed in ways I have not felt in while.

Anna prompts me from the dining hall, as I have entered an automatic state in which I am no longer thinking about what I am doing, and am instead simply doing it. She keeps a tight hold on my hand, and my arm, while she leads me through a maze of hallways that I pay no mind to. With great luck I manage not to trip over my feet.

I am occupied with the past, the months I have trudged through, the months I doubted I would see the end of. I am mourning the loss of so much time, time I should have spent doing great things, time that I would have liked to have spent un-burned and un-bruised.

"Elsa." Someone tugs at my arm, calling my name and pulling me out of my self-pity fueled trip to the past. "Elsa you have to eat something, you haven't eaten all day." Anna coos my name once more, fully retrieving me from my reverie and depositing me back in my bedroom with a plate of small sandwiches sitting on my desk. I study them.

"There was a lot that needed saying." I mutter. "There wasn't much time to eat."

"Not anymore." Anna reminds me. "You told them everything and enough of them believe you. Not that any of that really matter unless you eat and keep yourself alive." Anna gestures toward the sandwiches and even picks one up too much upon herself. "Eat, please."

"Where is everyone else?" I ask, ignore the food in spite of the gnawing hunger resting in my stomach.

"Mother, Kristoff, and Kasper are dealing with the men Hans left behind, the ones that didn't get a chance to run, they are being transported to the dungeon. Kasper and Kristoff are both strong enough to help, and mother is overseeing the incarceration." Anna pauses. "She's nervous. It's terrible and strange seeing your mother nervous. I don't think she's adjusting to freedom all that well." She confesses.

"Are they safe?" I panic, worrying about what little family I have managed to scrap together.

"Perfectly, Kristoff is an ice harvester, criminals are tough, but ice is tougher. Also they are working other guards, the guards we can trust. There is nothing to worry about, probably." Anna launches in to a monologue, and suddenly I realize that I have reminded her that danger still exists in a post Hans world.

"I'm sure they're safe, the castle is the safest it has been in months." I reassure Anna, and finally, to her great contentment, select a sandwich of which to feast upon.

"You should eat more than one. Mother said you can't keep going on how little sleep and food you have been. You need to try and eat more, for my little niece or nephew." Anna insists, her eyes flitting down to where I've placed my hand on my stomach, as if a flimsy hand such as mine could protect a baby. "Have you felt him move yet?" Anna asks.

"No, I really have no idea when to expect anything; I ought to track down a book or two. I never really imagined making it to the point in which I would be concerned with simple things such as kicks." I try to smile, but fear I just wind up looking terribly scared.

"Everything thing will be ok." Anna puts her sandwich, half finished, back down on the desk.

"How could you possibly say that? How will everything ever really be ok again? Our mother doesn't have an arm anymore; she was a prisoner for four years. Will she ever stop fearing sleep? Will I? You almost lost your fiancé. Kristoff could have been killed, our father was." My chest feels full; full of too much that has piled up for months. I can feel the snowflakes fluttering around the room. "I am going to have Hanses child. I can't be a mother, not even to a child I wanted, how can I be a mother to a baby I never wanted, fathered by a man that took everything from me that night." This day feels like far too much, remembering everything, recalling the sting of the sea in my nose as I found out my parents were alive but wrapped in chains and doomed to be reduced to items of barter. Realizing, what I should have thought about before, that my body is no longer my own. It is changing, growing this child I never authorized.

"Elsa." Anna approaches me, her hand coming to rest on my shoulder. "Things are never perfect, but they can still be wonderful. Life happens in the imperfections, the rainy days and the stumbles. It is not that we want to be perfect, it is that we will live on to make choices and mistakes." Anna's voice is soft, and her eyes wise and honest. "And you will be an amazing mother because you give so much to others; you pour yourself in to the happiness and safety of other people."

"But I still hurt people. I hurt you for thirteen years, I hurt our mother, and our father, and I cast an eternal winter over Arendelle. I killed Hans." I clutch my stomach tighter, my hand not enough. The swell feels far too big and all too consuming, in spite of its small size. "What if it turns in to him? What if I have a son that is Hans in every way? Could I love that child? Will I be able to look in to Hanses eyes and tell my child I love them? Anna, I can't, I can't do that." My voice is worked in to hysteria. More and more snow comes to settle on Anna's, and my, shoulders.

Anna does not speak; she knows I am right, she knows that I cannot possibly be calmed. Instead she takes me in to a hug; she wraps her arms around my waist and holds me close. We both know this is terrible. Portions of our life are coming back together, quite fabulously, but I will always have this. My baby is just as much Hans as it is me, and Hans wins. He wins every time, when I thought that he was gone, finally gone, I am reminded that still with me. I will never be free from him.

"I don't know how I am going to do any of this." I stammer. "It feels so impossible."

"And when have you ever been deterred by the impossible. Everything about you is impossible. Was our mother, alive and well, walking through the castle ever something you deemed less than impossible?"

Now it is my turn not to speak, because what she says is all true, but I still cannot shake the worry that my baby will be born and I will not be able to love it. I ball up my fists against Anna's back, anchoring to her as to not lose myself. I dare not consider that I may lose control twice in one day; that would be a failure like no other.

"Remember," Anna's voice breaks my panic, "when we were children, before the accident, before anything at all had ever gone wrong. One day, during the winter, me and you went to go play outside. Mother and father were holding council and they told us we couldn't make any noise inside, I can't remember what it was about, but the whole ordeal felt very serious. So we did as we were told and went outside. Everything was fine until I tripped over a root. I tumbled to the ground, summersaulting and being very clumsy, then started to cry." I do remember the day Anna is talking of; it exists in the outskirts of my mind, shadowy and yellowed with age.

I can remember, with little effort, my father, his face younger and brighter than that which I am most recently acquainted with, telling me I was to take care of Anna. The meeting must truly have been important for typically our parents cared little if there were the clattering background sounds that come with small children in a castle.

"The first tears hardly had a chance to trickle down my cheeks." Anna continues. "You were right next to me, wrapping me up in a wonderful hug only a big sister can give. You told me everything was going to be ok. It was, obviously, but to me, you are still the only reason the world didn't end right there and then." Anna pulls away from the hug and meets my gaze. "You will doubt yourself, I know you will, but you truly shouldn't, because I never will."

"Thank you." I mutter, trying to assuage my worry. There is still the fear that I may lose control and freeze my child. There is still the fact that I will have Hanses baby, but there is also the knowledge that I have not always failed. On occasion I can do something right, not often, but enough to convince myself for these moments that everything stands the slightest chance of working out.

"Now get to bed, you're still recovering from some terrible burns and an awful stab wound and on top of everything you're making a tiny person inside of you. I have no idea how you are standing." Anna exclaims, her face creased with the smile that never leaves her face for long.

I agree without thinking, overcome with the decay of the day. My mind is slow and my movements aching. Anna wishes me a good night, but I am already too far gone to wish her one as well. I toss and squirm in to my bed, working myself in to the perfect nest, the perfect hug, of fabric.

Soon I begin to dream, and it is a strange dream, for I know none of it is real, yet the further I fall in to it the less I believe so. It is full of tumbles and stumbles and sneaking roots that seek to upturn my kingdom. The roots grow everywhere, no matter how hard I work or how furiously I dig I cannot remove them; they grow far too fast.

They snake under the castle and weave through the town. With every victory they curse me, they curse my name and remind me that time takes all. I run from the castle, chest heaving and eyes stinging at the overly bright sun. The roots are waiting for me.

They have taken the shape of a man, a man whom I recognize. Hans watches me, his face pale with death and his eyes glazed over, yet all too intense. Roots erupt from his chest, arching out in to the air in the same place I speared him.

"Elsa." He calls, his voice filled with echo and distance. "You fool. What did you think was going to happen? Did you think you would get to live a long life with mummy and daddy? Did you ever really think this was a good idea? Did you ever think you would manage to win?" His voice comes closer with every biting question. "Even in death I win."

"NO." I shout back, filled with rage at the truth in his words. "You didn't win, you can't win. After every bad choice I made it cannot end with you winning."

"My son will live. Elsa. I have won in every way." The roots gloat. "You would have to kill your baby to win. Could you do that? Could you hold it in your arms and murder it? Birth it only to slit its throat. Are you a murderer?"

This maddening mass of tree and man that my mind has conjured is right. I know already that too much of me loves my baby. I have already killed for it, but another horrible part of me still resents that it is growing within me, that it is going to be half Hans. I quiet the latter part of myself.

There is a rumbling beneath my feet that works its way to my head. In a shattering crescendo of terror and rage it grates against my throat and rips from my lips. I re-enter the world in which Hans cannot harm me and discover that someone is cooing my name.

"It's not real." The voice promises. I can feel the heat of the voice's body pressed against my side, and one hand clasping my head and stroking my hair. "You're safe, Elsa. Honey I promise you're safe." My mother continues to stroke my hair and gently rock my upper body as I let out a silent scream in to the night.

* * *

**Did you like it? Care to leave a review? Do you realize that if I get even one review for this chapter that means I have 200 reviews, that is insane. I cannot believe it. I am freaking out a little bit. Please review. You guys are the best.**

**Some more extreme repercussions of Elsa's story will be seen later. **

**I'll have an update for you on the 10th.**

**-Whovian123**

**WinterKnight2104: Thank you. I am flattered that you decided to take a chance on you story. I do hope your heart is still beating as there are many chapters left to be uploaded. **

**Guest: Thank you. I can promise some more interesting reactions later. This chapter may have been a let down in the reaction respect. **

**Knight of Balinor: Thank you. New readers are my favorite no need to apologize. Can't wait to upload more. **

**grrrrrrrr: Thank you very much. I know English is a tricky language. I use a lot of figurative language in my story and I know that translates very poorly. **


	55. Chapter 55

**Hello, It's not the longest chapter today, and is again mostly talking and building upon the frame work of Queen Idun. I want to make sure that things stay authentic. Obviously they (Anna, Elsa, Idun) are still reveling in the joy of having everyone together once again, but there is potential for friction regarding Idun ( nothing major though, don't worry).**

**Also I hit 200 review. Oh my gosh. I never thought I would do that ever. Thank you to each and every reviewer, you are all the best. **

**I'll shut up now and let you get to the chapter.**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

"Why are you here?" I stammer, desperate to take the focus from me and my resurgence of childish nightmares.

"After every villainous guard was locked away I came to check on you and your sister. I needed to remind myself that this isn't another dream; that I haven't simply gotten a fever and wished a world where I could breathe." My mother explains. I press my face in to her neck and bury my senses below her familiar scent. Her half arm comes to my back and does its best to bring me close. "Anna's in her room and content as a cloud on a summer day, but you were thrashing about and crying. What's a mother to do but comfort her daughter?"

I draw out the seconds, breathing the best I can through the gasps. I do not want to cry, I have cried far too often in the last few months. "That will be the baby." My mother explains. "They make your emotions wild." She smooth's my hair once more. "Care to tell me what the dream was about."

"Him." I splutter. "Hans. He- he said things, and he was right." I pull my fists to my chest. "He knew what I was thinking; he knew what I was afraid of."

"Elsa. He was a dream, nothing more. He knew all of that because your mind told him. You have nothing to worry about." My mother insists, not sensing the true urgency of my terror, not knowing that Hans was right about how scared I am of this baby.

"Then it was me, then I'm the monster." I plead with my mother to understand what this means, to understand how horrible I am. "The ideas were mine. I know I can't love this baby, and I know this baby means Hans wins. I would have to murder it the moment it is born to beat Hans, and I can't do that. I can't kill it because I already love it so much, and to imagine, even for a moment, killing it, makes me the worst mother in the entire world."

My mother goes silent and I prepare for her to run from me, to realize that there thirteen years apart have wrought me in to a monster beyond saving. I should have known that it was too good to be true, my mother back and everything normal. I fill my nose with her comforting aroma one last time and brace myself to lose her warmth.

She does not run.

I wait, she may be stunned. She must be scared to move, afraid I will claw as a feral animal would. I breathe once again and try to let go, deciding instead to break from her first, assure her that she can leave without fear of repercussions.

She wraps her arm around me tighter still. I pray that she does not attempt to restrain me. "I love you." She whispers. The words come as impassioned air to my ears. "And I will never let you go, I do not care what thoughts may come to you in dreams. All of us have nightmares and all of us have dark days where we consider unthinkable things."

"When have you ever been anything less than perfect?" I mutter.

"When I was scared of you." She answers without a moment hesitation, seeming to gain a catharsis from this long withheld truth. "We didn't understand you, when you were born your father and I were scared that you would hurt someone, or that you were a frightful witch. We panicked and worried for days over it." She explains, her voice rich with memory and emotion. "I did not want to hold you, for fear of magic, but you cried through the night, pleading with me to change my mind, to be human and comfort my daughter. Then one morning came when I was informed that you had developed an illness, I can quite remember which one, it didn't matter to me what you had, only that you be rid of it. I took you in my arms, obeying your shattered whimper for love, and kept you in my arms for the next week."

She pauses, collecting her thoughts and trying to steady the wobble in her voice. "I hated myself for being scared of you. I still do. Your father realized with me, when you were small, sick, and nearly as scared as us, that we had to love you. You cannot hate your baby Elsa, you can worry while it grows, but when you have a bundle of innocent, unmarred skin, in your arms, you will not be able to do much more than love."

"I don't know how to be a mother." I confess. "How can I promise my baby the world without sounding a fool? How can I give more than I have to it? How can I be you?" I plead for the answer, the secret to being a mother that eludes me. Without it I imagine not feeling lost.

"You won't know until you need to be. There are books about love, books about how to love, and who to love, many more on what comes after love, but not a single one teaches you what it is to love your baby." My mother shifts her weight alongside mine and I come to rest nearly piled upon her chest like a four year old child.

"What do you dream of?" I ask.

"Nothing as pleasant as I hope for."

"Please. It feels better when you talk about it, I promise.

"Last time I had a bad one, a true terrible one, was the last night I spent on the boat. The chain was rubbing my wrist raw and I hadn't eaten for a while, I don't remember when they last brought me food. I could not fall deeply enough in to sleep to push past the voices and dreams gone sour. Your father was cursing me, his body on the ground, headless, and Anna and you were telling me how little I mattered. You and her told me you blamed me for everything that you wished I had died in that boat wreck."

"We don't think that. We never thought that. Anna wept for weeks, she waited at my door and tried to talk to me, but she couldn't speak past the tears." I remember the weeks after the news; I remember how Anna's voice broke every time she felt strong enough to speak. I regret how I said nothing. I hate that I waited in silence, letting Anna spiral through her sorrow alone, unable to speak even to the empty air.

"When in the waking world I know that, but you know what it is to fall away from the knowledge that anchors you. I lost sight of sanity and believed in sour things because I had long since given up on myself." She confesses. "I never thought I would make it back to the world with a sky, I did not about your success with your powers. I doubted Hans, and his sanity. I know that the only reason he did not kill me right away is because for several moments I made him feel guilty." Her hand stalls and I feel her fingers stiffen. "At the beginning, before I knew what was happening, when we were just waking up and recovering from the shipwreck, I kept asking for you and Anna. I pleaded with him to tell me if everything was alright back home, if you and Anna were safe."

"He told you?" I ask.

"Not in so many words. He wanted to, he didn't want to be this terrible man that kept us locked up, but that was only half of him. For the first months he was a mess, he would say awful things to us, do awful things, and then return days later a shaky mess. I think it tore him apart how much he liked it. He was afraid of himself."

I contemplate this. I suppose it was obvious that no man is born a killer; no man becomes a murderer through birth. Murderers are molded through circumstance and mismanaged rage. He was human and he was scared, then he broke. I do not want to meet the family that broke him.

"I think he got the idea of coming here from me." My mother's voice sounds weak, afraid almost, as if I may blame her from all that has happened. "When I asked about you, again and again, it made you sound terribly vulnerable. When he broke, finally snapped and forsook all that made him man, the idea stuck in his head, he wanted to take Arendelle." I can see, only just in the shallow moonlight that my eyes are so accustomed to, several tears creep down my mother's face.

"We do that, don't we? We blame ourselves for things, even when we know that we shouldn't we still do." I muse.

"I suppose you got that from me. I always blame myself, I didn't want to pass that on to you or your sister, but it seems you both like to assume blame for whatever you can. You father always thought it was funny when I told him about foolish things that I blamed myself for." Her voice turns a wistful corner and becomes distant.

"Was he proud?" I ask the room, desperate to know if my father was proud of me in his last days. I need to know if he left this world not knowing how hard I tried to save him. I did all I could and when I saw his lifeless eyes I broke. My heart was crushed, compounded, separated to a thousand tiny pieces. "When he died, did he know how much I was trying, how hard it was. I hate that I couldn't save him, that I did everything wrong, I never know what to do. I always do the wrong thing."

"Of course he was. He was always proud of you." My mother coos. "He loved Anna and you more than the stars in the sky. He knew that you would never simply let him be killed, he knew that you were trying your best, anyone would mishandle the situation. Thinking your mother and father dead only to have them reappear with the man that tried to kill you and overtake your kingdom. He knew everything would feel impossible." I hope she is not lying. I hope she has not resolved to tell white lies for my sanity. I want to know the truth, whether it be good or bad. I do trust her through; she has never led me astray.

"He needs to be laid to rest." I realize. "And we need to fix the problem of your premature gravestone." I think back to the twin stones resting on their hill, alone as giants protecting Arendelle.

"I hadn't thought of that. Strange, that will have to be done away with yes." My mother's voice is quick and unnerved. "I do not like the thought of that; your fathers will have to have the date changed as well. Then I suppose before any of that happens I need to address the country, as do you. They need to understand and make sense of all this chaos"

"Don't waste a moment on thinking about it." I advise, remembering how often I make that mistake. "If I have learned anything at all through these years it is that worrying is worthless. You have to do your best and not lose your sanity through panic."

I consider, as I fall back in to what I hope is a calmer sleep, that I will be present for my father's funeral this time. I was grievously absent and terribly unsupportive of Anna last time. We can stand together this time, Anna, my mother, and I, all mourning together as the women of Arendelle. It is comforting to know that I can say goodbye properly this time.

* * *

**What did you think? Kinda boring? The next few chapters will start building up to another huge chunk of action and plot, promise. **

**I'll have a new chapter up for you on the 15th. **

**-Whovian123**

**Loridhhp: Thank you. I'll looking forward to writing the family as it falls back in to place with the changed dynamics, obviously Elsa and Anna are not the same people Idun left behind and she is not the same women that first stepped on that boat. It is all very interesting to write.**

**marvelousgameofdisneythrones: Thank you. Perhaps in a day or two Elsa will find that not everyone is inclined to side with sanity and that she is up for a challenge regarding her guests... And yes, with a mother like Elsa you could never be anything but kind. **

**Summer loving snowman: Thank you. If you want to write a story I encourage you wholeheartedly. Please do not hesitate to PM me if you want to talk about writing or need advice of any sort. I am always up for a chat. (Time zones permitting.) **

**laloo: Thank you for you're review. Abortion is a very difficult topic to talk about and address. In the 1800's (when Frozen is set) it was not looked upon kindly (even worse than today in fact), and was not a safe procedure. I do not believe that Elsa would be exposed to it as an option, or that she would be inclined to go through with it even if the option was made available to her. _My story does not contain a hidden agenda and does not necessarily reflect my own personal opinions regarding abortion. _  
**


	56. Chapter 56

**Hello readers, how nice to see you again. Are you feeling the holiday spirit, because I went outside to day and everywhere I went carols were playing in the background... I have never cared for carols. But I was still festive and fun. **

**So chapter, yeah. I hope you like it. **

**-Whovian123 **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

"No one thought to check to see if you were dead?" My mother exclaims, walking through the halls with Anna and I. "I promise you me and your father thought we were leaving behind a more competent set of guards. Why did they even leave you alone with him in the first place, you must have been visibly ill and he only a stranger. This overhaul has come not a moment too soon, though perhaps several too late."

We are making our way to lunch in what feels an all too casual and domestic manner. I suppose I shall have to adjust to a castle in which I can feel at home. The halls are unmistakably lighter and feel far less crowded, though the number of people in the castle remains largely unchanged. Save, of course, for Hanses absence.

Waking up had been easy, dealing with the looks at breakfast had been difficult. No one dared step out of line, but knowing that they would have liked to was enough to make each bite thick in my mouth. I was graced with several polite congratulations. It was as if no one knew if a forced baby was something worth congratulation. The whispers were the worst part, the near constant noise never above the quietest of hushed tones, anything and everything being said.

I am confident that lunch will be easier. Mornings leave people unaware and impulsive, by the time lunch arrives the impulses of nobility will have been tucked away and replaced with strained smiles and meaningless pleasantries.

"They shouldn't have even let me leave." Anna adds. "I am glad they did, I got to try and help Elsa, but I don't know what they were thinking. I could have died out there. I was the acting ruler of Arendelle; out in the mountains during an eternal winter was not the place to rule from." Anna pauses. "And not one person objected to me placing Hans in charge. Come to think of it, I'm not sure I feel all that safe at all. If it wasn't for your powers," Anna looks at me, "I wouldn't be able to sleep at night. At least I know I have an all-powerful big sister looking out for me."

I smile at Anna, relieved to know that even after a display of all the ways my powers can cause harm she believes them to be good.

We enter the dining hall, its wide spaces packed lightly with guests both coming and going. Some do stop to look at us, several even offer greetings. Others ignore us. I am certain that I feel several angry eyes boring in to the back of my neck, prickling at my skin.

Once sat at the tables a fabulously moustached man strikes up a stilted conversation with me, perhaps out of duty, perhaps he feels compelled to prove that he still respects me as a ruler and sees no better way to prove this than with small talk of the weather. "Arendelle winters are incredible; they simply refuse to end, though I think I did see some new green growth on a hedge yesterday." His accent is thick and un-placeable.

"Yes, snow has become a near permanent feature around here, but the chill will be easing off in the next week." I inform tempted to try and eat, but knowing that it is impolite mid conversation. "I expect you will be able to leave for home very soon."

"Careful you're Majesty; it sounds like you're trying to get rid of me."

We chuckle and I hope that it does not sound too forced. He leaves, having already eaten, and others take his place, some timid, some overly jovial in the face of their confusion, and one, an angry-looking tall man, takes no effort to conceal his seething gaze. Suddenly I am wistful for a properly maintained guard.

Overall I am correct in my assumption that lunch is easier. I leave satisfied, though slightly startled by my appetite, and content to know that the guests will be leaving rather soon, the castle feels as though it is longing to be ridden of its many occupants. I was not made to play host.

Anna and my mother stay in the dining hall, talking among the many people. I need some time away from people right now. I need to retreat to the space inside my head where I am unreachable and free from the annoyance of others trying to stay on my good side, or make it clear I am on their bad one.

I find myself in the library, pressing my shoulder in to the windows, straining to open them, and running my fingers along spines as I replace the books I have left out from my last visit. I do not know where to look for books about babies, books about new mothers, or books about scared mothers. I do not know why we would have some, my mother may have left some from when she was expecting me or Anna, but I know I have never made an effort to buy any.

My finger catches on a particularly dusty, and frighteningly thick, volume about pregnancy and all that comes after. I pull it from the shelf, and notice the yellowed papers that stick out at odd angles. Upon closer inspection I see that the book is filled with notes and that the pages are not, as I thought, ripped and mangled.

Flipping through the pages I see that the corners are creased and folded down, notes have been jotted on to scraps of paper and jammed in to sections about this and that, on more than one occasion there are notes in which there was no patience for paper scraps and they have been written directly alongside the text.

Resolving to learn as much as I can within the time I have to prepare I settle in to one of the cushy armchairs that grace the library, and open the book, then soon close it again. I stare at the title, old embossed letters that taunt me.

"Why do you have to be so complicated?" I ask my stomach. "I'm so scared of messing up but I can't even read a book with all the answers because it scares me too." My hand slides across my stomach, toying with the shape, the deformity. "I love you, I really do, but you can be scared of something you love, can't you?"

I stare at my stomach, wishing it could answer back. It does not, as it is not capable of such things.

"I wish we could talk. Can you even hear me? Do you have ears, do they work yet? Are you just a ball of slime that I can't get off my mind?" I take no time to consider how absurd I must look. "I want you, I think I do. I want the chance to be your mother, but it's still so scary. Can you promise me that you will never be like him? Can you promise me you won't hate me for worrying that you could be?"

I imagine a little boy, my potential son, dressed up in his finest coat ready for some event and looking unmistakably of Hans. His eyes a bright green that speaks of venom and his face composed with that sneer. He would stroll through the castle, casting causal orders this way and that, mimicking the father he never got the chance to meet.

How will I explain to my baby, my poor confused baby, that its father is dead? That I killed its father? When my baby learns that mommies and daddies go hand in hand how will I explain that there is only me? How will I cope when my child abandons me, forsakes my name, after discovering what it did to Hans.

I will not lie, or hide the truth, not even when the truth will tear apart what a lie could keep whole.

The window calls me forward, lavishing upon me cool, biting, air that keeps me sane. Outside the window rolling back and forth with its gentle midday current is the fjord. The ice is melting and the water breaking free. I take a deep breath and look to the mountains, enjoying the snow dusted trees and the capped mountains.

My head falls in to my hands and I look out at the ground, the gardens, without seeing anything. I try to force the world away, and when that does not work I allow it to float at its own pace. The air does wonders, the winter does wonders. I lament the coming of spring, not for the imminent departure of guests as I am all too eager to see all but one leave, but for the weather and the warmth.

I leave the window and look back at the book, knowing that not reading it will leave me ashamed and ill-informed. The cover is smooth and fits in to my hands with ease, resting shut, but falls open to a familiar creased page at the slightest provocation.

The page is littered with sprawling notes and marked with the stain of spilt tea. Two kinds of handwriting grace the page, small slanted letters with thin loops that I know to be my mothers, and wide letters coupled with fat circles that I recognize to be my fathers.

Notes fill the page in both voices, weaved around the text that was intended and taking over the book. Small encouragements are written in my father's hand, tucked in corners and squished against the spine.

_Breathe._

_I believe in you Idun._

_You are beautiful._

_I will always love you._

I smile at my parents and their life together as soon to be parents. They were happy, and scared, and terribly out of their depth. They had no way of knowing that they would end up with a child as problematic as me, as different as me.

The pages are all lined with similar phrases, and praises, each one bringing a watery smile to my face. My parents were adorable. I clutch this window to their life close to my chest and take deep breaths to combat my happy tears.

Deciding that I cannot read anything informative today I shut the book, after running my fingers over the ink once more, and set it on a table. The window takes me again and I see my parents faces reflected back to me in the glass.

They are young and smiling with hope in their eyes. They rest in each other's arms, my mother's hand resting over her swollen stomach, and my father's hand resting over hers. They look at me, confused for a moment, then smiling again. We stare at each other, my eyes hiding behind them, reflected back at me, breaking the trance.

I place my hand over the glass, tracing when my parents have dissolved. "I miss you papa." My voice is punctuated with sharp breaths and tears. "I wish you could meet your grandchild. I wish you could tell me what to do, but I wish, more than anything, that you could be here, breathing, alive, with us. We all miss you."

Closing my eyes I can see him. I can see him waiting beyond anywhere I can reach. He is a patient man, he can wait forever for me, this I know, but I wish he could come to me now.

Then I open my eyes.

The real world invades my senses and I return to the reality in which my father is gone, but my mother is alive. I have her, and Anna, both of whom I know will not leave me. I pick the book up once more, careful to trace the lettering and spine, and then exit the room, book in hand.

I walk through the empty halls, resolving to learn what I can of babies, and to do my best to be the mother my child deserves.

* * *

**I promise that we will be getting to action soon. Hanses death will not go over all that well with the Southern Isles. **

**Let me know what you thought. I will have a new chapter up on the 20th. **

**-Whovian123 **

**WinterKnight2104: Thank you. I know, it is terribly fulfilling to give Idun some time with her daughters after the terror of her last three years. **

**Random person: No more abuse. Promise. **

**Guest: Thank you. I hope your day wasn't too rough. **


	57. Chapter 57

**Hello my wonderful darlings! The holiday spirit has truly settled in, for me at least. I tried to fight the good fight and ignore it, but there were carolers at my school... **

**I hope you like the chapter. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

"Elsa." Anna calls to me, rushing over from my door. cutting off my attempt to abandon the baby book in my room. "Where have you been? I didn't see you leave lunch."

I clutch the book tighter to my chest."I needed some time alone." I answer, guilty for having avoided the world.

Anna nods. "I understand, and I'm really sorry to pull you back in to this chaos, I know that you- What book it that?" Anna is distracted by the baby book resting in my hands.

"I was in the library, and I felt a little overwhelmed, or a lot overwhelmed. I thought a book could help ease me in to everything." I explain, showing Anna the title. "I was rewarded with something most interesting." I flip open the first pages and put the notes on display. "Mother and father seemed to be rather fond of making notes in books."

Anna's face glows as she takes the book from my open hands and studies every word, every letter, and ever feeling. "Oh my," she whispers to no one in particular, "they were so cute." She flips through every page, looks at every note, and lets her fingers fall across the words of love and encouragement. "I miss him." Anna confesses.

"Me too." I mirror my earlier sentiments from in the library. "I wish he could still be here, with us. I'm sorry."

"Stop being sorry." Anna insists. "You don't have to apologize for these things that a madman did. Father wouldn't want you to feel this way; he never wanted you to be sad." Anna voice takes a wistful edge and she remembers our father as he was, as opposed to the emaciated memory I have of him.

"You said you were pulling me back in to the chaos," I force myself to smile, "what awaits?"

"The doctor stopped by as lunch was ending; he said that he needed to see you." Anna explains, shutting the book and returning to the world. "Your bandages are overdue for changing, he wants to see how the wounds are progressing, and he has several questions about the baby."

I nod and follow Anna down the hall and through the snaking hallways, towards what I presume is a temporary office for the doctor. She keeps the book in her hands as we walk, her fingers impulsively tracing the embossed letters, just as I had. I watch her look over to me several times, trying to gauge just how panicked I may be. I try to hide my stiff shoulders and tight throat. I know that she means well, that she just wants me to be safe. I wish she did not worry.

"You don't have to come with me," I offer, nearly hoping Anna takes me up on the offer for I fear I may stutter and stammer when asked about my baby and then forced to see the evidence of this struggled scared on to my body.

"You need someone with you for baby stuff, and in the absence of a doting husband I shall have to suffice." Anna chirps, then adds. "If that's ok."

"Of course."

We arrive at the infirmary, which I believe was once a study belonging to one of my particularly eccentric ancestors. Once inside I feel my stomach clench at the clean scrubbed walls, carefully rolled bundles of linen bandages, and water basins filled with water and crowned with slow rising steam. The doctor made short work of setting up his supplies.

I keep walking forward because I know I have to, because I know it is pointless to be worried by this, and I know that it cannot be all that bad. The doctor, the man I am assuming kept me from bleeding out several nights ago on a dark ballroom floor, is sitting at a bulky oak desk and is melting wax over a letter and sealing it with careful precision.

He looks up and apologizes. "Terribly sorry Your Majesty, I was just finishing a letter to my daughter, she's with her mother in another land, and with the coming spring I will be able to send her letters again."

"Don't think twice about it." I insist. "Family is important."

"Thank you." The man riffles through several papers on his desk, which I have now noticed is rather cluttered. "Please take a seat, we'll get those bandages off and see how everything is looking."

I sit in a rather bare wooden chair positioned at an odd angle next to a basin. Ignoring the heat rolling off the water I engage in nervous chatter with Anna and the doctor. My attempts at conversation slide of the doctor and his concentration as he fiddles with the bandages, starting to peel back the outermost layer of cloth. Anna, however, is as eager to talk as she has ever been.

"How is the wedding planning?"

Anna's eyes light up and her smile stretches from ear to ear. "I'm so excited, we didn't have all that much chance to plan, or really even set a date over the winter, because of the obvious stuff, but now we can arrange everything."

"Do you still want me to conjure up some ice sculptures?"

"Always." Anna answers. "It's the perfect classical touch; also having a sister as special as you is too amazing not to feature at my wedding. Even it is just with a drippy swan."

My forearm beings to sting, and sear, as the last bandages are pulled away from my first burn. The doctor makes an approving noise and reaches for a small beige cloth sitting in the water basin. He dabs in small motions and tells me that I am likely to suffer scaring, though it will be far more minimal that the mess resting on my chest.

The other burn on my upper arm is not in as excellent condition as the one on my forearm, but will heal, as all things do. I grit my teeth and ignore the single tear that wells in the corner of my eyes as the last fresh bandage is applied to my upper arm.

"I doubt that your shoulder will need another bandage, it was a simple stab, nothing as complicated as a burn." The doctor begins work at uncovering the thick long gash across my shoulder. It looks angry and red as I stare back at it, but I am told it holds no infection, though will scar in a thin pink line. It unnerves me to know that I will have these until I die, and even beyond then. Hans will be there, on my forearm, and my shoulders, and my chest.

After wiping the dried blood and sweat away from my shoulder the doctor washes his hands and addresses me with a far more serious face than he had had several moments ago. "Now, there is the topic of your pregnancy that needs to be addressed," I hold back a flinch and the abrupt change in topic, "You have had the most unusual and dangerous start to this pregnancy. I cannot fathom the levels of stress your body has been going through and your mental state. You are far too skinny and clearly have not eaten enough for yourself, let alone a child, in the past months."

I want to defend myself, but know that I cannot. I have been a terrible mother.

"I understand that this is anything but a traditional situation, but you must know that you need to be eating, and maintain a carefully structured sleep schedule. If you want this baby to be healthy you will need you to be meticulous in your care and have a little bit of luck."

Luck, I do not have luck. My life is an example of lacking luck. The wrong things have happened to me at all corners of my life. I do have Anna though, and my mother did rise from the dead after years of captivity. I have something, I decide, akin to luck that dresses itself up as tragedy.

So I nod, and listen, and then nod again, determined to be a good enough mother, a perfect mother, to my baby. My baby will be born in to unfortunate circumstances. I cannot afford to give anything less than all of myself to my child.

When the doctor finishes his lecture on the appropriate amount of protein I need to be eating, and the care I should take regarding exertion, I bid him a pleasant afternoon and offer him my thanks.

Once back in the hallway the, uncharacteristically, quite Anna broaches a topic that startles me. "Have you thought of a name yet?"

"What?"

"For your baby, it will need a name. I need something to call my nephew. Without a name how do we know who we are?"

A thousand names start flitting through my mind. "I don't think I would even know where to start. How do you go about deciding what to call someone for the rest of their life?"

Anna shrugs.

We meander through the halls and Anna flips through the book, pausing here and there to read me a particularly adorable note, or to share information regarding pregnancy and the symptoms that may come. The flow of conversation takes us through all corners of the castle; we stare at paintings and chuckle at old tapestries of ridiculous scenes.

Dinner approaches and with it comes our mother; she appears behind a corner with a worried expression that stops Anna and me in our tracks. "What's wrong?" Anna springs in to action and demands to know what is amiss.

"Nothing, not really, nothing overly important." My mother insists, adopting Anna's habit of rambling when she is nervous. "We were clearing out the ballroom. Hans needs to be removed and sent back home, and there was so much blood on the floor, I was cleaning it. We tried all morning but Hans won't move, he's frozen to the floor and we can't thaw him." Her eyes shift from Anna to me. "I hate to ask, but we need to get that body out of here, away from where it can taunt and haunt."

"I understand, he needs to go home." I know that Hans will not move without me. He is stuck with a terrible unyielding ice that I know will not melt without my help.

"I'm sorry Elsa." My mother says. "I wouldn't ask if I wasn't sure spending another day with him hiding in there would kill me."

I nod and tell her, again, that it is fine. I can beat him, I have beaten him. He is dead and I need not worry about what may wait for me inside that room.

We reach the ballroom in little time. Without thinking and with too much confidence, I push through the doors. Several guards, all clad in Arendelles colours, and equipped with swords strapped to their hips, are milling about, looking useless and distressed.

A dark, thickly iced, figure stands at the center of the room; Hans. He stands with the spine of ice still jutting from his chest, pinning him to the fabric of the universe and keeping him upright. My breath gets caught in my chest, and then starts bounding about in my lungs, fighting to get out, to be released, just like the red hot coil of panic and rage I feel glowing in my core.

I take stuttered and confused steps towards him, hating the way his eyes still stare, hating that they are still green under all the ice, furious that he is here and that he can still scare me. The blunt and wide end of the spine falls in to my fingers as I stand in front of Hanses. It feels as a spear in my hands, as if I am about to throw it so far in to the night that it can never return.

The ice, which was clear, clouds with frost emanating from where the pads of my fingers are still playing with the spine. I stare at his face, seeing what I saw so many times before, and am compelled to speak. "You didn't win." I insist to the dead. "I will have your baby, and raise it to be better than you, and you will not win." I let emotion and passion creep in to the corners of my voice. "I am stronger than you; I was always stronger than you. Every time you cut me, or burned me, or bruised me, you made me stronger." My throat turns raw as my chest expands and I fall in to myself tumbling though terror, rage, and something very near elation. "You did not win. I WON."

Anna rushes up to my side, tries to pull me back from Hans. I ignore he, I ignore the logic in being calm. I do not want to be calm. I am furious. Hans is dead, but I am still scared. I wasn't supposed to be scared when he left. I was supposed to be strong.

"I win." I mutter, no longer to Hans, perhaps never once to Hans. "I have to win."

All the clear glassy ice coating Hans has been replaced with jagged frost. Icicles drip down from his arms and his shoulders.

Becoming aware of the room I shout back to the guards. "When I melt him be ready to catch him, he's not stable and I'm not going to be able to move." The men all nod and rush forward to circle around Hans.

I clench my fists and hold my jaw tight. Thawing is hard, not impossible. Love thaws, contentment thaws, control thaws. I am none of those things. I am shaky, and scared, and marvellously out of my depth. I do love my baby though. I killed this man for my baby, and I can thaw this man for our future.

Creaking shoots in to the air along with shattering as the spine breaks in half and falls from Hanses chest, leaving behind a wide hole edged with tick, frozen, black blood. I decide that if I want to not panic I need to close my eyes, and then do just that. Once hidden away from the world it is easier to think. I can feel the ice, I know it is there, and getting rid of it becomes much less of a challenge as I breathe slow long breaths.

I feel the frost flake away to nothing and sense the release of tension as Hanses feet are freed from the ground and his joints are left free to fall about. His fingers fall away from his raised sword and it comes clattering to the ground.

My eyes open as I find myself to curious not to look. Hanses arms hang by his sides and his broken blue body falls back in to the hands of the guards. His eyes stare forward empty and angry, even in death he is angry. As his body crumples and his head lolls on his shoulder he looks defeated.

The floor connects with my knees and my palms soon follow. I bow down in to the ground and stare at the blood. Streaks of red rubbed and pushed in to the wood. Someone, my mother, has spent hours trying franticly to clean it, but it has stained far too deeply to ever be clean again.

Thin bright blue lines of frost streak out from my fingers, but I quell the panic and come to my senses. I take a slow breath and stand up, resolved to face the world on my feet and to ignore that my toes feel numb along with my hands. The guards have hauled Hans from the room and I am left with my mother and Anna.

"I won." I declare, my voice to loud and my syllables stretched and distorted. "I won."

* * *

**Well well, Elsa can finally be rid of Hanses body, though he may remain in her mind for a while yet. **

**Do let me know what you thought of the chapter. **

**As a holiday gift please do accept the next chapter on the 24th as opposed to the 25th as I am sure you will want to be with your families then. **

**-Whovian123**

**WinterKnight2104: Thank you. This one might not have been quite as warming, though the next one will have some sweet moments. **

**Random person: ;) **

**Guest: Thank you. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Yes, I do believe Elsa will panic right up untill she gets to hold her baby in her arms. **

**nataliastorm: Thank you. I did not know that about honey, I will have to be sure to keep that in mind if I ever find myself treating a burn.**

**grrrrrrrr: Hans is indeed dead. He may seem a monster, but he is mortal and so very dead. I have many things planned for the Southern Isles and their royals. **


	58. Chapter 58

**Hello. How are you? Good? I do hope so. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

Sitting in front of my desk I stare down at the most difficult letter I have ever been made to write. Through the flickering candle light, the sun having gone down long ago, I read it back. It details the circumstances of the past months and culminates in the circumstances of Hanses death. I address the letter to the monarchy of the Southern Isles and shudder as I realize I have just explained to a mother hand father that I have killed their youngest son.

It does not rest easy in my chest. Regardless I fold up the thick parchment and enclose it in an envelope which I then seal with wax and the official Arendelle crest. With the letter heavy in my hands I contemplate the repercussions of sending it out to the Southern Isles. I do not want to start a war. We do not need a war. Arendelle needs time to recover. I need time to recover.

I leave the letter on my desk, perched atop a stack of paper, and waiting next to the pile of abandoned letters that did not sound right. I cannot imagine a letter such as this ever sounding right. I stand, bracing myself against the back of my chair, stretching my back, and wrestling with the nausea that has settled in to the pit of my stomach.

This letter has left me unnerved. I did not enjoy sitting in a room, left with my actions and forced to address the repercussions. My stomach growls again and rolls about, threatening a resurgence of my meager breakfast. I think back to the baby book, Anna had informed me that I have been rather lucky in that I was not suffering from morning sickness as violently as the book suggested a woman might. Perhaps my body is determined to compensate now.

Fearing the world beyond my study, and that standing any longer may cause my queasiness to come to fruition, I settle myself on the ground opposite my large bookshelf. With my desk in front of me, the door to my right and a large window to my left, I focus on pulling my knees close to my body, and counting out my slow rhythmic breaths.

The moon hangs behind the window, creeping behind clouds and hanging far brighter in the sky than it has of late. I fidget and lay a hand on my stomach, willing everything held within to settle down, baby included. I still have not felt any movement, but I find myself unable to ignore the fact that there is a life growing tucked away in my stomach.

With my arms wrapped around my stomach I can nearly convince myself that I feel safe enough to sleep. Then I do, and to my bizarre delight I do not suffer dreams. I was up late enough to sleep without feverish fantasy or terrible visions.

* * *

Glancing up to the window as I stretch I start at the time and scramble to my feet. I have slept in and need to catch the tail end of breakfast to assuage to worry of my family.

Once on my feet I have the mind to regret my haste, the nausea from the evening has not dissipated during the night and is exasperated by my hurriedness. I stumble toward the waste bin tucked under my desk, clutching my stomach and bringing a hand to my mouth. I do not leave a mess, which I am thankful for, but I do feel foul and have a severely diminished appetite.

Working my way through several shuddering breaths, and frantically wiping at my mouth with my sleeve, I decide that breakfast is less urgent that it was several moments ago. I take another moment to collect myself and then return to my room, eager to change in to something I have not slept, and been sick, in.

Once clad in a simple pale purple dress, that I managed to fish out from the back of my closet, I make my way to the dining hall, hoping that there is still something to be eaten. Despite the ill feeling settling once again in to my stomach I am hungry and know I need to eat, not only for myself.

The dining hall is blessedly clear of nosy guests. There are still several platters of fruit and pastries lining the long table. Seated at one end is Kasper. He is examining a bowl of fruit, looking for what I can only assume is the perfect apple. I pass the tail end of the breakfast rush, several older dignitaries and a man with the most ambitious moustache I have ever seen, and take my place at the end of the table, next to Kasper.

"My mother told me you helped deal with the defecting guards," I mention, "Thank you, Arendelle is indebted to you, you have helped us with a remarkable amount of tasks."

"It's no trouble." Kasper insists, having now settled on a pale green apple. "My mother raised me to help when I could, where I could." He smiles his honest smile, and I return it without thinking, intoxicated by his joy. "You should eat." He motions to the bowl centered in front of me. "You look pale." His brow creases with concern.

I nod. Observing my nausea and deciding that I am hungry enough to risk the potential pitfalls of overzealous eating. I select, for myself, a small shiny apple and devour it, surprising myself, and then pick up another to eat more slowly.

"It was a trying night." I elaborate on my poor condition. "I couldn't put off writing the letter to the Southern Isles any longer. The body must be sent home before rumor has chance to spread. No mother wants to hear about news like that though unfounded whispers, no mother wants to hear news like that at all." It occurs to me that I have left the letter in my study and will have to retrieve it before the day is up. "I need to send the letter out, and then deal with the citizens, figure out what to say and who to say it to." I prattle on about all that needs doing.

"Would you like to take a break?" Kasper asks.

"What?"

"I break, from all this, the stress, the letters, and thinking about what to say when you address your citizens." Kasper elaborates. "Could it really cause such tragedy if you took an hour out of the chaos to stroll through the gardens with me?"

I consider it; an hour with Kasper and dirt.

I nod. "I suppose," I begin, desperate to not betray myself, or the irritating joy I feel, "that I can afford you a single hour."

Easing myself from my chair I consider Kaspers smile. I fear I may be growing too fond of it. He offers me his arm and, after a moment's hesitation, I wrap my hand around his bicep. His warmth worms its way in to my chest and sits there as we head out to the gardens.

The sun had worked the frost from the gardens and left the ground rather spongy. We attempt to observe the flowers and trees for several minutes, but eventually get distracted by each other and forget the world beyond.

We meander through several hedges and talk of nothing. It is easy to talk of nothing. I have spent so long talking of such weighty things that a break for the frivolous is welcome.

Kasper and I swap stories. He proves to be exceptionally interested in the rock trolls and their magic. I expect that he cannot be all that well acquainted with magic, nothing he has said has led me to believe otherwise.

"I still don't understand how they were so precise with removing memories." Kasper muses. "Anna must have been so confused; it would have only seemed as if you came out to play during the winter, if all of her memories about you involved snow."

"I'll have to ask Anna. I'm not entirely acquainted with the specifics. She did remember Olaf, but not before she had seen him. Magic is powerful and terribly confusing."

"Beautiful too." Kasper adds.

I feel the compulsion to thank him, the tone of his voice and the way his eyes watch leaves me feeling that he was not talking exclusively of troll magic.

I do not, in fact, thank him, instead I ramble on about other things, things I need to be reminded of.

"When you go home you will have to bring up the subject of trade relations with Arendelle. We have resources and connections that I am sure your nation would be interested in. And of course you could visit." I wish my mouth would stop. "I can't imagine you just leaving and never coming back, of course, you don't have to come back. I wouldn't make you if you don't want to. Or I could visit you, but when Arendelle is stable again, or not at all, if you don't want." My mouth catches up to my brain and realizes that it should shut firmly and stop trying to salvage the situation.

"You should visit," Kasper offers, "but I don't intend to leave all that soon. It is rather nice here." I do not dare ask Kasper how long he intends to say. Spring is warming the world and he could leave at any time.

Thankfully Olaf chooses this moment to come barreling past several rosebushes and straight in to my shins, his personal flurry fighting to keep up with his speed. He looks up at me, having fallen to the ground in his haste, and displays a rather large grin. "Elsa!" He exclaims. "I was looking all over for you."

"You were?" I ask. "I haven't seen you in ages, where have you been?"

"Around." Olaf smiles the smile of an excited, almost guilty, child. "Doing things." He draws his words out in long slow sounds, building to a reveal. I become aware that he is keeping something, rather bulky, concealed behind his back.

"Doing what?" I ask, smiling at Kasper as he peeks behind Olaf to see what he is hiding.

"Learning to knit." Olaf surprises me. Why would he want to learn how to knit? What use does a snowman have for knitting? "I made friends in town, and they taught me too knit because I wanted to make something for my new brother or sister." Olaf reveals a, clumsily knitted, indigo sweater. "You made me, so you're my mother, and that makes the baby you're having, my sibling."

I did make Olaf, I never considered what that made me. In the most un-traditional sense, I am his mother. He is not wrong. "Olaf, thank you so much." I take the small sweater from him, marveling in the soft wool and uneven stitches.

"I made it all myself, lots of people offered to do it for me, but I wanted to make sure it was all me." Olaf smiles up at me and Kasper. He is impossibly proud and optimistic.

"It's perfect, Olaf. You are the first person to give me anything for the baby; this will be its first present ever." I explain, knowing that it will make Olaf happy to hear.

"Really! I'm going to go tell everyone!" Olaf tears down the paths of the garden and toward the castle, seemingly intent on spreading the word of his new found knitting skill, and the application thereof.

"I must say, a living snowman is one thing, but a snowman that can knit better than me, is not a thing I ever thought I might come across." Kasper reaches out and feels the sweater. "Not perfect, but rather soft."

I let out a watery laugh, overcome with the emotion attached to this tiny sweater. "He knitted my baby a sweater." I repeat. "I can't believe that he knitted my baby a sweater. My baby has a sweater, its first ever sweater."

Kasper takes me hand in his. "Don't cry, it's ok, it's a beautiful sweater for a beautiful baby."

"I'm not sad. I don't really know why I'm crying." I wipe at my eyes, trying to decide if I am to laugh or cry. "It's just terribly sweet, and I'm a mess."

"It's ok to be a mess." Kasper reaches around my waist, with the arm not engaged with my hand, and pulls me in to a hug that I would happily drown in. The sweater gets caught up between us along with my other hand, which winds up flat against Kaspers chest. His heartbeat pulses against my palm.

"I was sick this morning." I confess, my face presses against the base of Kaspers neck. "My body feels strange and it keeps doing things that don't make any sense." I shut my eyes, focusing on the steady thud of Kaspers heart.

"That happened to my mother." Kasper explains. "I remember she was always sick when she was carrying my sister. I didn't quite understand then, but I know now that it happens to women when they carry children. It shouldn't last all that long, I don't think… You could get a book?" Kasper suggests.

"I have one. It was my mothers, her and my father have notes written all throughout it." I remember the book sitting next to my bed on my desk. Anna left it there and insisted that I dedicate an evening to reading it, but I haven't the time, and when I do I haven't the courage. "Every time I open it I get nervous."

"We could read it together?" Kasper asks.

"If a say yes will you think less of me?"

"Never."

"Yes."

* * *

**Olaf got a little scene, He had been rather absent from the action... he may have slipped my mind for several chapters...**

**Let me know what you thought with a review. **

**I will have a new chapter up on the 29th. Keep an eye out for it.**

**-Whovin123**

**NorthAmericanBlossom: Thank you so much. Glad you are enjoying the read.**

**nataliastorm: Thank you for the many reviews. Sorry about the word mix ups, I'll fix them asap. I hope you enjoy the chapters to come. **


	59. Chapter 59

**Hello. So I'll cut to the chase. I know a few of you are worried about Kasper. For whatever reason that may be I want to make two things very clear;, he is not going to "fix Elsa". There is nothing that infuriates me more than a "broken" woman needing a man to "fix her". Elsa can fix herself with the love or her family, maybe Kasper is going to come along for the ride, but he will not magically hug and kiss her and make her love herself, life is not so simple as that.**

**Secondly; (this is where it gets confusingly vauge) if Kasper's future is indeed what you do believe, and his involvement with Elsa evolves, it will take one heck of a long time. Elsa's last "relationship" was a pretty damaging one. She can be single for a while (alone and free, if you will), it will be good for her. She has her baby to think about, family comes first.**

**I just wanted to make sure that you know I am not planning on turning Elsa in to some dependent house wife. **

**Now please do enjoy the chapter (which is embarrassingly heavy on Kasper...). **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

Everyone is whispering.

I try to block out the clustered group of women watching me as I, attempt to, eat dinner. Anna is shooting them dirty glares as they are making no effort to conceal their contempt for me and my presence. Yesterday was easier, I do not know if I was simply oblivious, or if the time given has left more people to conclude that I am not worth believing.

The salmon is thick in my throat; I do not like the eyes. Far too many of them stare. I turn to Kasper, he is seated beside my mother, serving as an additional buffer to the unpleasant guests. My eyes plead for him to speak, for him to distract me from the venom in the air.

"You skipped lunch, I know this isn't fun, but eat as much as you can and then leave. You just need to make appearances, it keeps everyone happy." Kasper explains, calling back to our afternoon in my room, combing through my baby book and talking about sweaters.

"They don't look happy." I retort, my voice to sharp and angry. "Sorry, I know what you mean…" I amend myself immediately, reminding myself that Kasper is not the one staring and not the one whispering. He smiles and nods, understanding that I am nervous and rather scared.

"Elsa," Anna whispers my name. "Can we send the guests home yet? I don't think I can bear many more meals with these ungrateful dignitaries." She watches several men point to me and then whisper amongst them. I ball my fists and respond.

"I sent Kai down to the docks to talk with the sailors down there; he claims that the larger ships will be able to leave within the week." I focus on the thought of next week, a week void of stares and crowded hallways, and a week in which Kasper will have left. Spring is rather bittersweet.

I grit my teeth and force down the rest of the salmon, knowing I owe this to my baby. Once my plate has been cleared of food I stand, rather abruptly, and exit the dining hall. The stares follow the back of my head and persist through the door once I emerge in to the hallway. I breathe as I turn the first corner, content that the eyes have stopped for now. One week and then the castle will be mine again, for the first time in months I will not have to worry about who might be crouched behind corners and doors.

Steps echo from the dining hall. I balk and my chest constricts, would anyone dare follow me, would anyone dare attack me in my castle. Instinct activates and I begin to run down the hall, until I hear the steps call my name. Instinct decides to do an entirely different thing once I realize that it is Kasper who has followed me from the dining hall. I can breathe again, but the pressure in my chest does not relent.

"Kasper?" His name comes out as a question.

"I couldn't let you leave, not when you looked so unhappy." Kasper explains. "I know a week can feel like forever, but I'm sure you've had to endure worse for much longer." I try not to look at him, I feel guilty when I do. I cannot wait for the week to be up, but I also wish I had a reason to keep Kasper here.

Kasper steps forward and I step back. He amends his step and we wind up further apart than we began. I look at my hands, knowing that the emotions bouncing around in my chest and head are sure to break in to the air as frost soon enough. There is no ice on my palms.

"I'm sorry." I begin, sure that I will have something to be sorry for. "I couldn't take the stares anymore, it was easier before, but dinner is difficult. I needed to get away."

"Do you need to get away from me?" Kasper asks. "I'll leave if you want me to. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Kasper takes several more steps from me, his face a picture of concern. I panic and match Kasper step for step, keeping him from leaving.

"No. You can stay, you don't stare."

Kasper nods.

I slide down the wall of the hallway, content with where I am. The dining hall is behind enough corners for me to feel free. Kasper mirrors me on the wall opposite. His gaze focused on my face.

I try to speak several times. I want to validate my fear, my worry. I want to say something that keeps Kasper from deeming me as weak as a small child. There is nothing for me to say, it is cumbersome and clunky to explain my discomfort and anxiety regarding the guests. My castle is safe, they would not dare hurt me, but my mind is not used to safety within these halls and is refusing to trust in human decency.

"What do you do during the evening?" Kasper breaks the silence with a startlingly mundane question.

I stammer. "I… I don't know… I haven't had a relaxed evening in quite some time. The last months have been difficult as the sun went down, and before that there were impossible amounts of paper work to be done." I pause. "I still have paper work to do" I think back to the damage Hans did to Arendelle's economy and the corrective measures that I must make.

"I like the docks." Kasper wonders aloud. "The library is great when the rain is too much, but even then the docks can be beautiful. Would you like to walk down to the docks? It's calm and peaceful near the water, you look like you need calm and peaceful."

"I can't, it's crowded, someone will notice me and that will incite a riot. The citizens are confused and volatile, they haven't been informed of what happened here... I keep trying to think of what to say, how to say it, but I never get anywhere." Guilt weighs in my chest and I think about the hundreds of people, confused and distressed at the current state of things. I need to tell them the truth, I just do not know how.

"It's dinner, no one's out, they are eating with their families. I suppose that there are other places worth walking to. It's not really the end of the walk that matters anyway." Kasper chatters largely to himself. "Or I could just be quiet and let you sit here."

"No." I interject. "I could put on a cloak. Walking sounds nice, anything but more of the castle, I need to be away." Kasper smiles, stands up, walks over to me, and offers me his hand. I smile and accept it. We retrieve my, needlessly thick, cloak from my room and I wrap myself in it, keeping my face from the world.

We say nothing as we step out in to the night and remain silent as we walk past the gates. Once we near the town I break the silence. "If someone recognizes me what do I do?" I begin to panic, realizing that I should have stayed where I was safe. I should not have even paused in the hallway, letting myself talk to Kasper was a terrible idea, he is leaving and I am staying here. I should be in my room or in my study. I should be working.

"No one will recognize you," Kasper insists, "but if you are going to worry about it then we could take a different route, the docks aren't the only beautiful place in Arendelle." I do not bother asking where we are going, I simply follow Kasper as he turns to the left and starts along a thin gravel path lined with thick underbrush and tall pines.

He stumbles once over the uneven gravel, as do I. The night offers little in the way of illumination and the trees cast shadows darker than that I am familiar with. My shoulder brushes Kaspers side as the path narrows further. I become aware of this swinging arm and his regular breaths.

Then I can see again. The trees fall behind us and the gravel turns to smooth pebbles. Looking to the sky I can see the moon emerging from behind several thick grey clouds and the stars glittering around it. Before us is a small pebbled beach, lapping back and forth with gentle waves. "I was walking during the morning once," Kasper explains, "before anyone was awake, I couldn't sleep very well I don't remember why, and I found this place. Everything looks different in the morning; you can see all the fjords and the mountains…" He voice turns wistful. "I keep meaning to find the time to hike up the North Mountain, but it keeps getting pushed back."

"I've been up the North Mountain," I confess, "it's beautiful. I tried to abdicate the throne and run away up there… I didn't get very far, but I did cause a lot of damage. "

Kasper nods the careful nod of a man out of his depth. "Your coronation?" He asks. "I haven't the entire story, but I've gathered that it was not the smoothest of evenings."

I chuckle as the understatement.

Kasper walks up to the edge of the fjord, letting the water lap at his worn leather boots. I come to stand beside him, staring down at the blue, seeing the night reflected in it. The late sun of the warmer months has yet to invade the evenings. With each wave the moon is distorted and stretched.

"What were you going to do up in the mountain?" Kasper asks. "What could you do up there for the rest of your life?"

"I built a castle, it's made of ice." The words fall like rocks to the bottom of the fjord. I wish I had a magnificent story to tell. I wish I could impress people, Kasper, with an interesting adventure or some great feat of redemption and revenge. Alas, I did not even volunteer to come back to the country, I was knocked unconscious by a suspicious stray arrow and brought back against my will.

"Castles are only worth having when you can fill the rooms."

"I did learn that."

"Could you show me it?" Kasper asks. "An ice caste sounds remarkable and I enjoy remarkable things."

"It is a little worse for wear. I did not leave willingly." I remember the damage, the fallen beams and the fractured ice.

"Remarkable things can be broken."

"Ok." I agree. "Remind me sometime when the weather is decent and the paperwork light, we can hike up the mountain." I smile for myself, letting my joy pour in to the salty water and drown, all under the cover of the night.

It is now that I realize the stares have stopped mattering to me, the vile whispers during dinner and the eyes that follow throughout the day. They have slipped from my mind, abandoned their place and been replaced with a feeling best described by the stars. I do not mind at all

My smile widens and I start to hum, reveling in a joy I cannot deny. I am not dead, I am so alive. I can feel the pebbles of the beach, taste the wind and the salt of the fjord. Kaspers vague outline is clear as any crystal has ever been.

I let my hand find its, increasingly reassuring, place above my stomach. Maybe this is a mood swing, maybe all I am is a bundle of pregnancy symptoms and my mind is no longer my own, but I am happy and willing to give my mind to my child.

"Should we go back?" I wonder aloud.

"I wouldn't, beautiful winter nights are soon to be in short supply, I am not one for waste." Kasper smiles down to me, his face lit by the stars and the moon. He takes three steps back and sits on the pebbles, content with the cold and the dark.

I follow suit, coming to rest on the pebbles, staring out across the fjords, and, quite possibly, closer than I should be to Kasper. The moon crawls, slower than the slowest turtle of myth, across the sky.

"Do you miss your family?" I ask.

"Of course I do." Kasper reaches up and drags his hand though his hair. "My parents didn't expect me to be gone this long; they actually expected me back before winter. I intended to send a letter when it became apparent that I would be gone longer than planned, but I ended up forgetting."

"What are your parents like?"

Kasper smiles, remembering what I assume must be fond memories of his youth. "The best. Not many people can handle three sons and an energetic daughter. They are the perfect team; I never understood how well they managed me as a child, but looking back at it they were masters at child rearing. There are bedtime stories I will never forget... I was once scared of lightning, but have come to crave the striking light and roaring sound, all to my parents credit." He picks up a flat stone and turns it over in his hand several times. "My father is a quiet man, soft spoken and always smiling. My brother, not the oldest, the one in-between me and the oldest, he is most like my father. My mother is whimsical, getting lost in books during the earliest of hours." Kasper looks for a moment at the rock in his hand then decides that it ought to be in the fjord. He flicks his wrist, sends it skipping three times across the water, and then watches it sink underneath. "It was strange, being the third son, it was never important for me to learn how to rule, tragedy does happen, but ascending to the throne is not likely for me."

"You're lucky." I offer. "Ruling is tedious and attracts a fair number of dangerous and foolish suitors. I would have taken a life without a castle"

"You're too good at it." Kasper explains. "You can't wish you were something else if you are good at it. Ruling is hard for everyone, but you do it the best. You can't give that up."

"You have been here for the last months, haven't you? I let a mad man run wild through my country and risked my nation for my family."

"We all make mistakes."

I laugh; it is the embarrassing full body type of laugh that happens when you cannot do anything else. Kasper laughs as well, letting out a deep sound that resonates in my chest. I move closer to him, drawn in to the heat he offers, intoxicated by the idea of warmth in a way I never have been.

* * *

**Don't worry. I won't pile on all that much Kasper in the next few chapters. Unless you want that of course. (Actually i have the next few chapters written already so the lack of Kasper is pretty much set in stone)**

**Regardless, I do hope you liked this chapter. Let me know how I did.**

**A new chapter will be up on the 3rd. **

**-Whovian123**

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. My Christmas was wonderful, I hope you and your family had a wonderful Christmas as well. Hanses family will definitely come in to the picture soon. And I don't want to tell you too much about Kaspers future... **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. I imagine Olaf would have a difficult time with the patience required in kitting, but he does seem the committed type. Perhaps he will make a pair of socks next... **


	60. Chapter 60

**Happy new year all, I hope the holidays have been kind to you, and also that you enjoy this chapter. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

Kai smiles as he rushes off with my letter clutched in his hands. I had blathered on for several minutes about how it was imperative that the letter be delivered alongside Hanses body and how this situation must be handled with the utmost care.

Hanses body was transported on board his boat this morning and will set out for the Southern Isles before sunset. I cannot have him here, not for a moment longer if I ever intend to stop feeling as if he is watching me from behind any and all objects and corners, nor can I have him here once I have announced to the citizens the event of his death; an event I keep pushing back and refusing to address. My palms feel slick with sweat as I consider speaking aloud to so many people about my faults, mistakes, and the terrible peril I put my nation in.

I hold back a yawn, regretting how late I found my bed, but not regretting a second I spent by the fjord. In spite of my worry at the prospect of announcing tragedy to the populace, I smile.

Lunch has come and I know I must attend. I was absent at breakfast, my stomach, and baby within, have been protesting all day. As I make my way through the hallways I steel myself for the stares, the glares, and the whispers. I can manage them. I know I can. I am safer here than I have been in years.

At first no one notices me, and I am content. Once I slide in to my seat between Anna and my mother the table begins to shift. I smile the best I can and stare forward, ignoring anything as I clench and unclench my fists under the table, taking in the room, looking for a distraction. Kristoff's seat is empty and Kasper is placed next to my mother, his plate piled high and his shoulders resting tight.

"We had to clear several protesters from the main gates today. Not a lot, no more than six men." My mother mentions, carefully, to me. "You need to address Arendelle."

"I know." I speak more harshly than I intended. "Sorry, yes. I will, I need to, I just don't know what to say." I look to her, wishing that I could ask for her help as if I was a child, but I am not a child. I am a queen that should not fear her people as I do.

"You don't have to do any of it alone." Anna reminds me. "You can write out a speech, I can help, I've very good at talking."

"After lunch," my mother inists, "please write it after lunch."

Anna nods; her face calm and easy. I follow suit, agreeing to a speech writing session. I cannot imagine how I can explain this to Arendelle. I feel I have waited far too long, in spite of the fact that it has been less than a week.

I understand why I cannot hold off on announcing any longer. My people are owed the truth; this ambiguously informed state will shake their faith and keep us from moving forward. My father cannot be laid to rest until the populace understands why we are holding a second funeral, and riots would follow the unexplained removal of my mother's funeral stone.

Lunch passes swiftly. I eat enough to sedate the gnawing pit in my stomach, and then leave before the eyes work up the nerve to say things best left unsaid.

I panic a strange slow panic as Anna and I make our way to my study. Telling the people of Arendelle that their king is dead is an inevitability I will have to face, it should not be as hard as this. I was never going to be able to avoid this.

"How is Kristoff?" I ask, recalling his absence at lunch.

Anna's face lights up at the mention of his name. "He's with his family. He left this morning and won't be back until tomorrow night. Now that we can properly get to planning the wedding we want to get everything moving and officiated before whatever happens next. Calm is a rare thing in this family and we want to be prepared and married by the time the next storm hits"

I hope Anna is not preparing for the eventuality of me causing another tragedy or problem. "Do the trolls intend to attend the ceremony? I know they have never taken to the crowded nature of our cities, but maybe for Kristoff?"

"I gather that is what Kristoff is talking to them about." Anna giggles. "They wanted, before Kristoff explained that we cannot, the ceremony to take place in the woods. Grand Pabbie thought he would be officiating."

I smile and let out a faux gasp. "The scandal, as Queen I will obviously officiate... Unless you don't want me to. I suppose it might be a little strange. I can be a guest." I backtrack quickly, not wanting to intrude upon whatever plans Anna may have for the day she has spent so long dreaming off.

"Of course you officiate. Queens can do that right?" Anna questions, pulling open the door to my study and staring pensively in to the air. "I guess you can just pass a law if you need to."

We chuckle.

Inside my study the curtains are drawn and the corners of the room dripping with shadow. Anna wastes little time forcing the windows open and savouring the fresh air of the day. Digging though my desk draws I locate several pots of ink and a stack of parchment, then promptly realize I know nothing of speech writing.

Letters I am acquainted with, but the effects of the written word differ vastly from that of the spoken. "Anna?" I ask. "Have you ever written a speech?"

"No, I've never needed to. How hard can it be really?" Anna pulls a dusty chair, one neglected and pushed in to a corner, forward to sit in, and then stares at the blank paper. "I imagine you just write what needs saying and then read it when you collect your audience."

"What do I say? What would you say?" I wait, pen poised above the blank yellow parchment, itching to write something that will make everything ok.

"I guess, just start out with a greeting of sorts." Anna taps her fingers against my desk, letting the clicking spur our thoughts. "Thank everyone for gathering and then just tell the truth. We can't lie, Elsa we have lied enough times to know that it is a bad idea, the truth is too fond of the light."

I nod and agree, the start scratching words on to parchment, hoping that I can get in to a rhythm of sorts and emerge from my mind to find that the entire block of text has appeared before me and is ready to be spoken. My hand comes to a shuddering stop right before the _truth_. Truth, I dislike the truth. Telling the truth is horribly venerable. I would much rather keep it locked up in the back of my mind, behind a facade of happy smile and cheap jokes.

The tip of my pen rests on the paper, leaking out in to a growing blot of ink. I try to write out what I think I should say, I try to apologize for the death of Hans, and I try to pretend that given the chance I would redo it differently, but I do not want to lie. I cannot bring myself to regret any of the things I have done, not when faced with it like this. Hans died so that my child might live, and my baby will know her grandmother. Arendelles economy and morale can recover, the dead do not.

Anna offers ideas, catalysts that broach the truth. I try them all but none flow. My waste basket fills fast with angry wadded parchment and phrases that are clunky or too round sounding. "I don't know how to do this." I stare at the last sheet of parchment, irritated with myself for not being able to do something as simple as write the truth. It is simple; I have already done this with the guests. "Tutors never thought to teach me things such as this, this was never something any one thought a queen would do; explain why she murdered the king."

"Maybe we can ignore the speech." Anna suggests. "It worked fine with the nobles, they believed you, most of them, and we haven't had a riot yet." Anna tries to avoid mentioning the stares and whispers, but it has not been long enough for them to hide in my memory.

"I didn't have to worry about them though." I think back to telling the nobles everything, my guests that got caught by winter and become long lodgers. "They are leaving, I will not see them every day, they will not meet me at the gates and cruse my name long in to the night, they simply do not have to care."

"You still have to do this." Anna's voice is soft and sincere. "You can't run away, Elsa, this is something you have to face, and I will be here with you do, but you still have to do it."

Anna is right. I have to do this, I have never not known that this would be an eventuality, but it still scares me. "Tomorrow morning," I offer, "tonight, before dinner, I will announce that tomorrow morning the truth will be told. Do not let me back down." I beg of Anna. "Tomorrow morning, speech or no speech I will stand on the balcony and shout the truth out to everyone and they can riot if they are wont to do, but I will have given them the truth and then, eventually, the world will settle down."

"No one is going to riot." Anna assures me smiling. "Arendelle is going to recover and we will be a stronger nation for it. Hanses rule and the new found enemy of the Southern Isle may have been a setback of sorts, but when you announce the new trade with Kaspers kingdom everyone will calm down."

"How did you know I was considering trade with Kaspers kingdom?" I ask Anna, not recalling telling her of my plans.

"He might have told me when we were talking." Anna confesses.

"Why are you using your "I did something wrong voice"" I ask, suspicious of Anna and her potential to meddle in my relationship with my first friend in fourteen years, my only friend outside of family if truth be told.

"No reason." Anna insists. "Either way, that will calm everyone down and make them feel secure in our economy. Further back in Arendelles past, before Mother and Father, there were depressions far greater than this. We have nothing to worry about."

We do, I suppose, have nothing to worry about and everything all at once; but if everything warrants worry why bother at all. "Ok." I agree. "I can do this, it is simply speaking, after all, such things I have been doing since my youth. Though I do think you mastered the technique before me." I poke fun at Anna's tendency to ramble and we giggle with one another.

"Let's get out of here." I suggest, startlingly cavalier. "Study's are not meant for anything but. We have countless rooms and gardens to roam. Do you want to build a snowman?"

"I do. I truly do." Anna smiles with me, pushing her dusty chair back to the wall and making for the door, then pauses. "Do you have any idea how utterly satisfying it is to hear you say that? I have waited so long for you to do the asking."

I brush off the role reversal with a shrug, but revel in the switch once Anna's back is turned. It is satisfying to have done the asking, to have mirrored the Anna that waited outside my door day after day and long in to nights that would have been better spent in bed.

Anna leads me outside, having decided whilst talking aloud to herself, that we best not cause water damage to the castle while guests my happen upon the mess. Instead I follow her to the gardens, past a small fountain and a large sprawling set of hedges.

I snap my fingers and enjoy the crisper feeling that seeps in to the air. Anna's breath turns to frost and snow appears on our shoulders, light and unassuming. Then thicker mounds grow upon the ground, sparkling and brilliant.

The snow comes together in my hands as naturally as the air around it. I am as a blacksmith, smiting cold and ice in to whatever I may desire. Contenting myself with the ability to create as I breathe, and not fear what may come as I blink. Together Anna and I pile a snowman together. He is of epic proportions and crumbles upon himself as we laugh, my control over the snow waning in my mirth.

"What do you think of Einar?" Anna asks.

"What? For the snowman? Anna I hate to break it to you, but Olaf was a one off, nothing else like him will ever happen again." I laugh and picture the mangled snowman dancing about and declaring himself to be Einar.

"No, not for him." Anna explains. "For your baby. It will need a name and I got caught thinking about them."

"Einar?" I roll the name around in my mouth for a moment, testing the weight of it on my tongue and the scratch of it in my throat. "I don't know. It's a nice enough name…"

"You don't _have _to use it." Anna reminds me. "Arne, Peder, and Henrik are also names you can use; or, really, any name you want, because it's your baby and you can call it whatever you please, as long as there is something to call it by… Perhaps even Anna if it's a girl?" Anna suggests, with a cheeky smile, her own name.

"Are you that determined to have an Anna make it to the throne?"

"Not at all, it looks terribly uncomfortable… but if you were stuck for names, and you happen in to a daughter, it couldn't hurt to have to Anna's around, could it?"

I smile a let the names roll around me head. Anna is out of the question, one is enough for me, but what if it is a girl and I am left wildly unprepared for naming her. I remember the list of names in the back of my book and resolve to look at them before retiring for the night, perhaps a browse and then a proper sleep will help cement the idea of one in my mind.

* * *

**Let me know what you thought, I love review they are the best. **

**I will have a new chapter up on the 8th. **

**-Whovian123**

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Elsa will be getting a nice little patch of time in which to live, for maybe a week or two... **

**nataliastorm: Thank you. I don't want anyone worried that Elsa is going to abandon the family she worked so hard for.**

**Phill: Thank you. I hope you aren't too busy, hopefully you get some free time to relax. **


	61. Chapter 61

**Hello reader dear, quite a chapter here. Elsa is finally gonna get done telling the people of Arendelle the truth. Enjoy. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

It was easy to get there, all too easy to get out of the castle, away from the nobles and their shameless whispers, but harder to bring myself past the gates and across the bridge keeping the castle and city separate; my feet leaving behind a scattered trail of frost.

Anna follows beside me, and our mother beside her. We are flanked by guards, preceded by guards, and followed by guards. I worry that the swords used largely for decoration on the Arendelle sentry's uniform may become rather necessary. I do not like crowds and they have never taken well to me.

The enclosed formation serves as a deterrent as well as protection. Angry citizens will not be able to reach me with their fists, hopefully, and I will not be able to run, be able to escape mid story and abandon the pressure and responsibility of the truth. My steps stutter and I fight to breathe.

It is easy to speak, we are born screaming. Our lives begin with a shouting bellow that evens in to a steady cry, surly after that speaking must be no great task. I wrestle with confidence, trying to latch on to it and keep it by my side. I do not falter again.

They are waiting, lined in haphazard rows that turn to jostling crowds as I appear. I breathe and look above them, focusing instead on the mountains and thinking of the hike I owe Kasper. The crowd surges forward, many shouts emerging from the mass as my mother comes in to view, confusion spreading and adding to the mania.

I signal to the guards and watch as they begin quieting the people of Arendelle. We expected this, we knew that the initial reaction would not be calm, no one can be calm in the face of a ghost, and my mother is most, certainly, a ghost.

Anna whispers something, maybe encouragement, maybe an anecdote. I am not focused enough to hear it. My feet carry me forward, trusting in my mind to catch up before it is too late and I am left looking a fool in front of my people.

My brain does not work, but my mouth does. "People of Arendelle," I start," I trust that you are confused as to why I have called you here, as to why my husband is absent, and as to why my mother stands here with me, your former Queen." I square my shoulders, becoming aware of myself, my posture, and my voice. "I am here to tell you, but you must listen calmly and only ask questions of me when I have told you everything." My chest lightens, only the slightest bit, as the crowd watches me, blessedly silent.

Then I do what I promised. I tell my story, all of it. My skin crawls and my heart hammers with each terrible memory being brought back to the front of my mind for what I know will not be the last time, though I wish it was. I wish, as I watch the faces of my people morph through every emotion there is; that this was simpler, that I might simply write everyone a letter and not have to face them. It is the faces that are the worst; they do not attempt to look anything but awe filled or judgmental.

I detach from myself as I recall the more terrible nights, the times when I was broken beyond hope and violated beyond sense. Away from me it does not seem as bad. Eventually I must return to my mind though, and within is the horror of myself. It sears my throat and tries to trap my words, but I do finish my story, content now that perhaps I can be free of it with the world properly informed.

My mother moves beside me, places her hand on my shoulder and offers me a soft worried smile. My feet stutter once again and I let her move forward and command the attention she is accustomed to. "I told you that it would be fine." Anna leans over and whispers conspiratorially.

"Don't be so sure." I warn. "There is still plenty of time for screaming and pitchforks." There is, there is too much left that my make them scream, revolt, and attack. Relations with the nations that refuse to believe me will be tragically mangled and irreparable, I cannot fathom the damage that could come about from my own nations distrust.

We do have Kasper's home, his resources and his fleets should the worst come about, but I still do hear the screams and the shouts, the calls of whore and harlot that have taken residence inside my head, they out weight all sense and reason .

"Arendelle shall be brought forth in to a new life of honesty and peace." My mother lets her voice reach a crashing crescendo, something rather necessary in keeping the attention of a restless crowd and convincing them than you ought to be trusted. I feel as if I am being caught in a dirty lie, in spite of not yet having uttered a single fallacy.

The crowd does not scream; the people do not march forward with heavy feet and raised fists. There is silence built up in to the tamest of murmurings. They do no fight. They do not curse my child, their future royal, and call me heathen. I feel my shoulders fall to hang lose at my neck, tension pouring from me in to the ground, leaking to the fjord and dispersing within the careless waves.

With this I am free; I am free from the worry of others. I know now who stands with me and who will rise against me, and my people will not abandon me. I have their loyalty as I feared I would not. They did not forsake me when they learned of my power and it's volatile nature, and they will not now.

"I feel like I can finally breathe." I realize aloud. "From the moment I hurt you I have been drowning." I explain to Anna. "And now I can breathe, they know everything, everything that I have ever done wrong, and they refuse to leave."

"They have the fortune of seeing you from outside your head." Anna mumbles. "You never can see yourself properly from behind your mind. It is as a bubbled piece of glass, morphing and twisting the truth."

I wonder when Anna became so wise; did it happen in the last months, or the years before that? I am glad she is wise. She sees the world in a confusing marvellously clear and optimistic fashion.

Our mother manages the crowd, allowing them to disperse and move on with their days. I watch the city come back to life as market stalls are set up and fishermen march back toward the docks, disgruntled with the forced late start they are faced with.

Then we are heading back to the castle, still flanked by guards and coasting on the success of the morning. I am giddy, smiling to myself like a fool and humming under my breath. They do not hate me, they do not hate my baby, and they will not curse my name long after my reign.

Anna joins in my harmless humming, falling in to a delighted jaunt beside me. We smile at each other and let out careless laughs. Our mother sends a glare back our way, her stern features masking what I know to be elation. I have seen the mask she wears now on myself far too many times.

"We did it." Anna declares to my mother. "We made it through all that Hans could offer, and we won. He can't kill us now."

"He can't" I say. "But his people can. They have yet to receive our letter and I doubt they will for at least a week more." I wonder, for only myself to hear, if a letter will be sent back, and if that letter will detail their declaration of war. The desire to meet Hanses family is not one I have.

"We can avoid war." My mother reassures me. "It may not be as easy as we could hope, but I have faith that we will be able to work a way around war."

I suppose we can, if we are careful. Perhaps I will have to send money, resources, or Arendelle representatives to The Southern Isles as means of assuaging their potential rage at Hanses death. I will not resume trade with them, and I doubt they will be inclined to resume trade with me, but we can coexist together, ignore each other even, if that means not being forced to waste lives in the mess that comes with war.

The world will keep turning, the sun will keep rising, and we will all live to see it.

The castle welcomes us back. The guests have dispersed, having taken to the town, or set about prepping for their boat ride home. I am looking forward to the peace, the calmer meals and the quiet castle. My short term future involves an unplanned baby, the tranquility will be welcomed yet soon ushered out I am sure.

Breakfast tempts me and I wander in to the dining hall, Anna in tow, and search for something to keep me sated until lunch requires my attendance.

"So, wedding details?" I ask Anna, a piece of buttered toast in hand. "Care to tell me all the dirty little secrets?"

Anna jumps at the opportunity. "Well, Kristoff doesn't know yet, but the cake will be chocolate, of course. And I really want it to be outside and during sunrise, but that means I have to wake up unreasonably early to get ready, but the sunrise is so beautiful during the spring." Anna leans forward and cups her hand over her mouth so that only I can hear in, in spite of the empty dining hall. "I'm still trying to talk Kristoff out of letting Sven be the best man."

"Sven in a overcoat, it will be a morning no one ever forgets," I promise, mulling over the logistics of a reindeer being part of a wedding party. "Provided anyone is awake of course."

"Elsa." Anna whines. "I'm nervous, I've never planned a wedding before, and I hope to never again, so this one has to be perfect."

"Well, as someone who has already been married, though admittedly not by choice, I can tell you that it is a simple as walking down the aisle, and when you are walking to a man that can make you smile I would imagine it feels like flying." I remember my wedding and replace the silhouette of Hans with a blank figure, an imagined man that I know and love; someone with whom with I could comfortably spend forever.

"Do you think you will ever be able to forget about him?" Anna's timid voice brings the world back to me, she undoubtedly talks of Hans.

"I don't think that's possible," my fingers fall in to place across my stomach, holding my child, "but I can beat him. He still does scare me as I sleep, but he will not always. Someday, hopefully sooner rather than later, I will sleep without fear."

"Do you have nightmares often?"

"Yes."

"I do to." Anna confesses. "About you and Mother, and Kristoff, father to. Hans to, of course, but he just waits there, laughing ever time… You always abandon me. Mother does to, and father never makes it a minute in. Every time I wind up alone, and he reminds me that no one will ever love me. At least if I get this wedding over will I know Kristoff won't be able to leave me."

"Anna, is that the only reason you said yes. That is not a reason to marry someone."

"No, it's not, but I am worried that if our engagement lasts any longer he is going to get tired of me." I try to protest but Anna catches my gaze and cuts me off. "I know he loves me and that he won't, but I am still going to be nervous. I can be just as stubborn as you."

"You are really very stubborn aren't you?" I smile and remember all the days Anna waited outside my door, knocking and begging to build snowmen. "I am never going to abandon you ever again, and I am sure the thought has never crossed Kristoff's mind. He is a good man. Did I ever tell you that he asked for my blessing before he proposed?"

"He did?"

"I wouldn't lie."

"Well…" Anna laughs and lets the implication hang in the air.

"That was not a lie; it was memory erasing and the omission of a forgotten truth." I know my justification falls flat, but Anna's smile tells me that I need not dwell on what has been forgiven.

"Was he nervous?"

"Perfectly terrified."

"You did say yes?" Anna asks. "Didn't you?"

"Of course." I assure Anna. "He is clearly desperate to spend forever with you, who would I be to come in the way of such love? Also I trust him a great deal more than the first man that asked for you hand."

* * *

**You know the drill, please tell me what you thought with a review and I will have a new chapter up for you on the 13th. **

**-Whovian123**

**burningbridges42: Thank you. Snowman building is so much fun to write. Also, the babies gender is on lock down in my brain, along with its name. **

**Goldie Roth: Thank you. About three months... give or take a few weeks. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Thankfully the speech worked out... for now, who knows what could arise... in the future... **

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. The people have taken it well, for now, there may be a few disgruntled citizens, but the people just want a monarch that cares enough to keep the country running. Also the babies gender is very hush hush right now, as is the name, though you are free to speculate. (Happy belated new year.) **

**chiaday: Thank you. **


	62. Chapter 62

**Hello. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's a rather special update day (not for plot reasons exclusively), mainly because it happens to be my birthday today! **

**I hope you all enjoy the chapter and have a swell day, I'm hoping for a good one myself. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen.**

* * *

"What do you think about the sleeves? Yes or no?" Anna twirls around in a mock wedding dress. Her seamstress having gone off to study her measurements and several swatches of fabric. "It is a spring wedding, so sleeveless makes more sense, but I want to look classy and sophisticated, maybe even graceful."

Our mother approaches her, tracing her outline and every fold of fabric with her eyes, keeping careful of the pins as she feels the fabric along Anna's shoulders and all the way down to her wrists. "You do have final say, so whatever you want I will be happy with, as long as you are happy."

"Elsa." Anna looks past our mother to me. "Do you think I should keep the sleeves?"

"Do you like the sleeves? Do you feel yourself in them?"

"No, I don't think I do. I would have wanted them a year ago, when I wanted to be different. I don't think I like them now." Anna decides, looking behind her in to a full length mirror propped up by a stack of several books and rolls of fabric. "I do like the beaded bodice." She traces the long looping spirals reminiscent of flowers that grace her stomach and chest.

"You look beautiful." Our mother's voice is quiet and wistful. "You will look stunning on your wedding day... I remember mine. Your father was a sweaty mess; he kept tripping over the vowels in our vows." She chuckles the laugh of days long gone that leave memories to crisp to relive properly. "The sun shined in my eyes as I walked down the aisle, we got married outside by the fjord in a field. The whole of Arendelle came out to see us. When I saw your father he was silhouetted by a thousand glimmering beams of light, he was smiling like a fool."

Anna and I come to her side, comforting our mother the best we can. "I found a book." I announce, remembering that I meant to show her the baby book that she and my father had trapped so many moments of their life in. "A baby book that you and father had before me and Anna, back when you didn't know what to do so you turned to books."

She smiles. "The one bound with burgundy leather and titled in big gold letters?"

I nod.

"I remember that. I can't imagine there is all that much to be learned of children from there, we wrote over everything worth knowing. I imagine we will have to buy some new books, what with your little heir and Anna's coming wedding."

Anna lets out a mock scandalous gasp. "Children, mother, I haven't the time. My days are dedicated to sword play and pirate fighting…" the seamstress reappears and calls of over Anna, forcing her to shuffle rather awkwardly in her tight skirt, "though, I do love babies, but I think me and Kristoff will be waiting a while. Neither of us are even close to ready for responsibility like that." I envy Anna for her ability to wait. "Besides, I am going to spend all hours of the day spoiling my little niece or nephew."

I smile at Anna, assured that in spite of my lack of preparedness, I will not be alone.

She sheds her future wedding gown and dons a lavender dress that speaks to the new spring. We leave the seamstress to her work, not wanting to bore her with our chatter, or distract her from her work. Kristoff has had to stay with the trolls several days longer than he intended, and Anna took the opportunity to move wedding preparations ahead. If her schedule is to be believed we will be watching her take a husband in a months' time.

The thought of my little sister doing such grown up things startles me. It feels as if we are still six, pretending to play as adults, back when we thought that adulthood brought only the kind smiles of parents and happiness. In all fairness, in-between the darker patches of my life, I have had a rather large share of kindness and joy, perhaps there is even some in my future.

I find myself sitting though dinner, content to block out the remaining guests and the world they wait in. A short man sits next to me and has decided that I am not worth his time, displaying this decision through sideways glares and the occasional huff. I take little offence as my goal is to eat and leave. My shoulders hang lose and my feet demand I turn in for the evening early. I am tired.

Anna and my mother smile and wish me a calm and pleasant night as I leave. They have, blessedly, taken well to my early evenings and reluctance to wait in the public of my guests. Anna mingles with ease, concealing her disband for those that openly disagree with our version of the past months. Mother still hangs back when asked of the past years, she wanders late in to the night, reluctant to meet her bed and face the nightmares that lurk in her mind.

I stumble though the halls without thinking, distracted by the ache in my back and my stomach having decided that it does not like having food in it. My fists press tight together and I wrestle with the urge to double over and be sick on the floor.

Somewhere, behind the thoughts hurdling around my head, I think I do head footsteps. I pay them no mind, deciding that controlling my stomach is more important than smiling at whomever has stumbled upon me. If it is Anna, or my mother, they will understand, I have been caught struggling to keep food down several times in the past few days, and any guests will not dare interrupt me to satisfy their curiosity.

The hand to my shoulder comes as a shock.

"Your majesty? Are you ok?"

I stumble backwards, startled by the voice, belonging to a man, that has intruded upon my space. The hand on my shoulder tightens, keeping me in place. "Please let go." I ask of the stranger. "Please. I am not well."

"You don't look it." The stranger muses. "I suppose you deserve it for what you did to your husband."

My blood turns to ice and I freeze to the floor, quite literally, as my guard falls away and frost pools across the ground. Chancing a glance up I see the short man that was sitting next to me at the dining hall.

"What do you want?" I plead for this man to say something sane, for him to back away and apologize for his rudeness. My home was safe for the briefest of moments. Hans is gone and I trusted my guests to leave me alone. I suppose I have been foolish.

"For you to pay, you killed your husband and then had the indecency to blame him for your troubles. I know the truth, you were just looking for a way to whore around, is that even King Hanses child, or some devil bastard convinced out of marriage, is that why you killed the King, to hide the baby's parentage." The man spits his words out hot and angry. His hand, the one not gripping my shoulder, reaches for my stomach.

"Don't touch me." I snap. Stumbling away from him, wrenching out of his grip, and swatting at both his arms. "Don't go near me or my baby."

The man sneers.

"But I am right, aren't I?" He takes on a victorious look. "Tomorrow morning I leave, and I will spread, across the world, the truth of what happened here. The world does not have time for the lies of a woman. I will make sure the truth is heard."

I realize that I am up against the wall, that I cannot go backwards anymore. I cannot go backwards anymore.

My feet carry me toward this mad stranger. "You can do as you please," I seethe, "but as long as you are in _my_ castle in _my_ county you will respect _me_. You will not harm my child and you will not judge the things I have done that you clearly do not understand in the slightest." I raise my hand, fingers curled in to claws and palm dripping with frost. "So I ask kindly that you leave my presence this instant and do not find you way back in to it. I will not hesitate to defend my baby."

The man does not move, but his eyes do shift. "I will not surrender. I am stronger than those you have silenced. I know that Arendelle is a terrible place." His voice rises and he walks toward me far faster than a sane man would.

"NO." I am shouting now, not meaning to. "I WILL NOT SURRENDER." I send a gust of frigid wind toward the man, striking his shoulder, and watch as it hits him and sends him in to a panic. He abandons all pretense of being strong and fearless as he bolts from the hallway.

It takes me many minutes to move, and several more to feel. My arms are cradling my stomach and once inside my bedroom I am sick in to the waste bin. Emptying what remains of my dinner from my stomach. I cannot find it in myself to be hungry in spite of my empty stomach.

I fought off the man. I suppose I am proud of that. He was drunk on the dreams of power and his imagined truth. He will not be foolish enough to try such a thing again, not in the hours he has left, but sleep still seems a distant land I have no hope of reaching tonight.

I do not want to address the problem of being attacked in my home. Anna will not know, and neither will my mother. They would worry. This man will not be here much longer, I do not have to worry as much as I am.

My bed feels too far away from where I have curled up on the floor, and the desire to cry distracts me from the tempting comfort of my bed. I expected people to dispute my story, I knew it would happen, but I hoped I would feel stronger or be braver when facing such claims.

The world hates my baby, fears that it is a crime against marriage and its father unknown. I fight to remind myself that not everyone thinks as that man does. That the man is likely an exception in a world of reasonable people that understand the darker notes Hans painted his life with.

I observe how foolish I am being and how dreadful I must look, curled on the floor next to a pot of sick.

I haul myself up against the wall, deciding that the bed is too far, but the floor too tragic. From here I can stare out my window, can see that I have spent to long curled up and that the moon has risen. The stars dance about and clouds seem a forgotten thing lost to time. I push everything away, save the moon and the stars.

My heart decides that it does not need to hammer quite so hard and perhaps that I could afford breaths less violent than those which I am fighting.

As I calm down there is a knocking at my door. All progress I had made toward being calm is dashed aside and replaced with piles of terror.

I shout out before I can stop myself. Terrified that everything I have sacrificed for will be taken from me by a short deranged stranger in my own home that has only just started to feel safe again.

"Elsa?" A small voice, not at all belonging to an angry short man, calls. "Are you in there?"

"Anna?" I call to the door, already recognizing the voice, knowing the voice more deeply than I have ever known another.

She inches the door open, peering around it, her eyes rimmed with red just as I am sure mine are. "Are you awake? I don't mean to bother you."

"You're never a bother." I promise, pulling myself to my feet while still cloaked with night, not wanting Anna to see me weak against the wall. She smiles, her weak grin illuminated by the moon. "Do you need something?" I ask. "I am not entirely myself right now, but I will do my best."

"I don't really need anything." Anna mumbles. "It's kind of embarrassing actually... I had a nightmare… one of the bad ones, and I couldn't convince myself that you were still here, safe. That you didn't hate me." She twirls her fingers together, waiting by my door, shifting her weight from foot to foot and looking terribly scared.

"I never hated you Anna."

"I know that now, but there was a time when I didn't. There was a time when the things you did made little sense and I could only piece together the possibility that you wanted me gone." Anna's voice trembles and she looks down to her feet.

I move to her side, compelled to do all I can to make her feel better. I mutter her name several times and coo in to her hair and I wrap her shaking frame in a hug. "I am never going to leave you." Anna nods, knowing in the sensible part of her mind that it is the truth, but the habits of our youth stick with us far longer than is reasonable.

"I can't sleep." Anna insists, the type of panic I am too familiar with tainting her voice. "Not after this, every time I close my eyes you say horrible things." She rushes through her words, crashing in to the realization that the darkness holds far too much terror to venture in alone.

"It's ok," I assure, "you can stay here, the night's half up." Anna nods in to my chest, not having had the strength to abandon the hug.

She climbs in to my bed and I remember the nights during out youth in which she should abandon her own bed and I would awake to him her in mine. Mother assumed we would grow out of such habits.

"Did something happen?" Anna murmurs, curling up against my side and drifting in and out of our world. "You're eyes are red."

I struggle for a moment, fighting the urge that is my custom, to try to keep the short man and his actions a secret. Anna does not deserve another secret, not after shutting her out for so impossibly long. "Yes." I allow. "There was a man, a terrible small thing, a guest, and he did not agree with me or my baby." I chew at my cheek, fiddle my fingers, and then finish my story in a long winded rush. "He threatened to hurt me and bring Arendelle to its knees and then tried to attack me in the hallway."

Anna stiffens. "He did what." She sounds far more alert than she had moments ago.

"It doesn't matter Anna, he's leaving Arendelle tomorrow, setting back for home. He won't be a problem."

"He won't," Anna confirms, "because I am going to tear him apart." She tries to clamour to her feet but I keep her still with a light hand on her wrist.

"Anna please, it's not been a very nice night for either of us, but we will see morning and nothing really does matter. I have not been hurt and the trouble that would arise from confrontation is too great. And please don't tell mother, she doesn't need to know about him. We need her to feel safe. I just want everyone to be safe." I plead; not wanting to make a mountain out of what cannot be more than a mole hill. The man is not a danger, I am stronger than him, and I have ice in hand. Anna is apt to overreact with impulse, but being so asleep makes her more suggestible to peace.

"Ok, but if anyone else tries to get near you or my niece or nephew I will set Sven on them. Sven can be ruthless." Anna promises, settling back in to her lose curl against my side. Her head settles by my shoulder and she is asleep with incredible time.

I follow minutes after her, first contenting myself with her steady breathing and relaxed face. I needed to see her face shed its fear and furry. I need my world to remain calm, simple, and safe.

* * *

**How about a quick favorite and review? Yes? Good? I quite enjoy them. **

**The next chapter will be out on the 18th, so be ready for that. **

**-Whovian123**

**Shadowfax321: Thank you. I take it you are a twin? **

**chloe perez ****92****: He was, at least he's not around to do foul anymore. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Yes... Elsa can relax... **

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. Oh yes, the Southern Isles are only several chapters away, we shall see how the react... **

**nataliastorm: Thank you. I enjoyed writing it. **

**chinaluv: Thank you. I absolutely love your review. **


	63. Chapter 63

**Hello, I'm back from my wonderful birthday. Another year older but not at all wiser. **

**I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

Anna is furious with herself when we wake up. She insists that we track down the man and demand a formal apology. I brush it off, knowing that he has likely departed for his home by now and that he will not return. I hope he will not return. I shall see to it that he never sets foot on Arendelle land again without first sending the most earnest of apologies.

My stomach jolts and I am promptly sick, avoiding Anna by rolling to my side and leaving a pool by the side of my bed. "Elsa?" She worries, jumping up and rushing over to my shaking shoulders, pushing my hair away from my face and the path of danger. "Elsa, are you ok?"

I paw at my mouth, wishing I could rid myself of the terrible taste of bile. "I'm fine. It's the baby."

"Right, I knew that, I told you that. I forget sometimes." Anna mumbles as I retch once more.

Having now emptied myself of everything I have I collapse on my bed once more, Anna hovering over me as a worried nurse, or an overprotective sister. "I just need a minute." I try to assure Anna that I am fine, that she needn't worry, but I know she will. I smile, in spite of Anna's worry, at the fact that she is so determined to worry.

I will always have Anna.

The nausea passes and I stand successfully. Anna smiles a wary smile, and I offer her one that I hope is confident. "Breakfast?" I ask.

"Are you sure, you don't have to go for me. I'm fine, and you were very not fine just several moments ago." Anna rambles.

"I'm sure." I try to ignore Anna's concern, try to pull myself together and muster up a smile. "I'm ok. I promise."

Anna remains unconvinced, as told by her face, but relents.

We leave my room and make our way through the halls. I chatter on about useless things. Anna and I settle in to an easy back and forth, the easy kind of honest talk that I had been wistful for in the past months. We can be sisters, casual close siblings, like we have never had the chance to be as young adults.

When we do make it to the dining hall, after far too much pointless wandering and weightless talking, there is scarcely a soul to be seen. Four women and two men crowd together along the tables, having forgotten their plates and focused on whatever they are talking of, perhaps politics of some sort.

There are several other people, nobility and the odd member of a monarchy, scattered around the hall. The formality of the past moths has been dropped, with the quickly decreasing number of guests, and the absence of Hanses overwhelming presence, a casual feeling has crept in to the castle. Perhaps this happens every year when spring comes along, perhaps it is simply the first time I have been free enough to witness it.

My eyes catch on a face looking back at me. It is a face I recognize. He does not move, he does not do anything other than stare unashamedly at me.

"Elsa are you ok?" Anna jumps back to being terribly worried. "Who is that looking at you? Is it him; is it the man from last night?" Anna infers far too much. "Tell me it is, I'll give him a piece of my mind, just you watch me, I will throw him in to the fjord." I do not take Anna's threats at violence lightly; I do remember just how fiercely she can punch. She put on the most spectacular display of her strength when she punched Hans and sent him flying off a boat and in to the fjord.

"Don't worry about him. He doesn't matter." I try to convince myself that he is looking over my shoulder, that he has forgotten himself and gotten lost in his mind and is not truly looking at me.

I pull Anna over to the seats farthest from him, hating that his eyes follow me as I walk. Did he not say he was leaving in the early morning? "It will be fine." I insist for my own sake.

Anna protests at first, looking only at the man and thinking only of him, but when she turns to look at me her face drop for a beat and then her features are soft. "Ok, you're right. It will be fine. I promise it will be absolutely fine. He probably forgot about leaving, will do it the moment breakfast ends. Don't think about him at all, just eat."

I do eat, never daring to look at my plate or my food.

One by one the guests leave, perhaps parting with Arendelle and taking to the sea, eager to return home, or perhaps still here for several days yet and simply taking to the town, or the mountains, or anywhere at all.

When the last two guests' stand I feel my shoulders clench, of course he would wait for them, he would wait until everyone, save Anna and I, have left. This sort man does not have the gull to attack me in plain view of so many.

He waits, quiet as the door swings shut and seals us in the dining hall. Anna, who had been hyper aware of the situation through her forced breakfast launches from her seat and slams her hands to the table. "You need to leave." She announces through gritted teeth, encouraging the short man to escape before she loses herself.

"In due time, my ship was delayed. With the luck of the wind I will be gone before sun down." The man explains. "In the mean time I will remain here, as a guest in your country that you have no right to harm."

"Do not test me." Anna surprises me, pointing at the man with sharp fingers. "I know you threated my sister, threatened her baby. I know what you said about her and what you implied. I will not tolerate anyone saying such things." She lets her hands fall from the table and squares her shoulders, standing as tall as her frame allows.

"Princess," the short man addresses Anna, "you best calm down. No one has said a thing, least of all to you. I suggest you busy yourself with your wedding and your ice harvester." He stands now, leaving his plate behind and strolling alongside the table. "I do doubt Arendelle's continued prosperity. The world will want the truth, not the lie you insist upon spitting, best wed before trouble comes along."

"You will leave," Anna repeats, "or you will find that I make you leave."

"Anna. No. This isn't worth it, he isn't worth it." I try to grasp Anna's arm, not wanting her to cause trouble. This is the type of man that will always play the victim. Anna is falling in to his trap, he wants to be attacked, wants to have "proof" that we are violent criminals. "Please he isn't worth it."

"You should listen to your whore queen." Anna's hands clench in to tight fists as the man continues. "She knows how to manipulate, and lie. She knows what men want, and how to take from them." The provocative nature of what the man says is all too clear.

Anna marches over to the man, drunk on rage and determined to force an apology of sorts from him. "She is not a whore, and you are not a decent human being, but I do expect you to take back everything you have said, and to beg that we pardon your pathetic behaviour." Her voice is a threatening whisper, coming out reminiscent of a hiss.

I grasp the table, clinging to the edge and not daring to stand. There is frost, I can feel it sliding through the grain of the table, imbuing itself within the wood and sending small creaks in to the air as the grain expands, challenging the integrity of the table. My heart thunders in my chest and I clamp my teeth on my tongue; trying to distract myself.

"Princess." the man's voice drips with something un-place-able, something between anything I have ever known. Something I do not want associated with my little sister. "You are so young, it would do you well to renounce your Queen. It would be a terrible waste were you to stand by her as her nation crumbles." He pauses, licks his lips, and traces Anna's body with his eyes. "Such a young soft body should not be wasted."

"OUT!" Anna stands, dumfounded, as I stand, sending my chair skidding across the room, clattering against the wall with my force. I command the short man again. "You need to get out now!" My feet tingle, ice pools across the floor, in no time turning the room in to an ice-skating rink.

"Or what? You throw a little wind my way? Give me a cold? You can't kill me like you did King Hans; you don't have a cover story for me. If I die then the truth gets out."

Pushing past Anna I inspect this inexcusable little man. "You threatened my sister," I remind him of his crimes, remind him that if I so desired I have reason enough to kill him, reason enough in my mind, "so you will leave, I will accompany you to the docks, walk you aboard your boat if I must, and see to it that you never come back here. Because if I see you again, I will not restrain myself, I will not be a kind queen, I will not be a reasonable person. I will kill you." I promise the short man.

I scare myself, terrify myself, and leave myself in a cloud of frost and a pile of snow. The short man shivers, clutching himself trying to remember warmth. "Kill me will you?" He taunts, not recognizing when he ought to quit.

"Not today. Today I am reasonable and kind."

We stare, not willing to give in, not daring to look away for the briefest of moments, lest the other attack. "Leave, please leave." Anna interjects, pulling me back from the man and begging that he depart. "The sun is bright, any problems your ship may have had will have melted away, please I am sure you want to see your home once more."

"I will be back." The man spits back at us, relenting only due to the innate fear men have of magic and what it might do to them when provoked.

"I can assure you that you will not." Anna informs the man, taking over from me, letting me calm down and control myself once again.

We escort him through the town, keeping careful that we do not look all that suspicious. I do not need my people to be made aware of such turbulent behaviour happening in the castle. He mutters curses and objectifies Anna several times, perhaps because he can, or perhaps because he knows it leave me itching to attack him.

Hes boat proves rather sea worthy and has not faced any cumberment in recent days.

Anna watches with me as they finish loading supplies and rations for the trip, as the man had in fact planned on leaving today. He boards the ship with little complaint and I watch his form, reassured that he is there and not having snuck off and in to the town at any point.

It is nearing dinner when he is able to leave, and further past dinner when the boat as shrunk to such a size that I might feel safe. "I'm sorry." I tell Anna. "I'm sorry he was a problem, you wasted your day with me, you could have been doing things, important stuff."

"Elsa. He was not your fault, and is very clearly insane." Anna smile and nudges me. "Also no day spent with you is a waste."

"Still," I insist, blind to Anna's joviality, "he said those things, he spoke about you, and looked at you, like an animal would about meat."

"And you made it very clear that if he dares come back to do anything about the threats he made he will be met with an icicle through the heart." Anna explains. "He is the type of man that only cares for other men, he looks at us and sees wives without husbands, leaders that ought not be leading because we are not capable in his mind."

I mumble and nod, irritated with the standards of others.

We ought to make our way back to the castle, we are staples of the dinner table and there will be some matter of some sort that I have to deal with. So with the knowledge that we are being most acutely missed, we stay from the castle. Neither of us make the definitive choice in our heads, we simply leave the docks and do not take the proper turn toward the castle.

The town is quiet, all families having gathered around old thick wooden tables for supper. I am hungry, ravenous even, but I enjoy the bare streets and their clattering emptiness more than I ever could sitting in a stuffy room for the smattering of royals that remains in my castle.

"Have you settled on a name yet?" Anna small talks with a smile.

"Not quite. I stumbled upon a few that I don't dislike, but it isn't the easiest of things. What if I decide something that doesn't fit?" I worry. "I don't know how to say it, but you are an Anna, and it would have been wrong to call you anything but Anna. What if I name my baby the wrong name?"

"You don't have to name it before." Anna reminds me. "It would be smart, of course, for you to have ideas, but you can't be expected to know exactly what your baby will be like, you can't even be sure if it will be a girl or a boy."

"There must be something else to talk about." I squirm under my shoulders, disliking the thoughts of the near future, that which cannot be much more than six months away. "Have I missed anything particularly interesting around the castle?"

"Not all that much. It has been terribly boring in the wake of Hanses death; of course, today seems to have been an exception." We pass through the market place, stopping to inspect the motifs of the houses and the intricate stonework of several statues.

I build up to my next question for a moment, muster the courage to ask. "How has mother been?" It is a terrible feeling knowing ones mother might not being as perfect and happy as one remembers them being while they were younger. It worries me that Hans has left what could well be a deeper mark are her than he did on me. Through the thought of him does still leave my feet feeling false and my stomach a tight ball of empty.

"She… isn't the best she has ever been." Anna talks lightly and pained. Her voice a whisper, as if soft talking takes away the bite in the truth. "I found her crying several days ago. She hates it; it upsets her to know that we know she isn't ok… And she misses Papa." Anna adds.

We walk, back toward the castle now, slowly, cautiously even. The castle is walls and a roof, but the walls and the roof symbolize so much trouble and terror. "Is there anything we could do to help, do you think?"

"Is there anything we can do to help you?" Anna retorts in the kindest way a person can.

I do understand what she means. She is not a blind fool; she does know that even now I am not ok, not close to it. I still shudder and fear the darkness of dreaming. His name still sends my head in a spiral of terror and panic; sends my feet and my stomach through the floor, convinces my mind that I must panic lest I be hit, abused, or manipulated.

Time will help. I have to convince myself, pretend if I must, that time will help me be ok. It will help my mother stem the tears.

"I imagine we will have missed dinner." I switch the conversation over to light things once again. Light things do help distract, keep the mind from straying in to the darker corners. Light is good.

"We don't need that dinner. We need dinner with mother in the library." Anna insists. "We need to remind ourselves that we are a family, and that being a family means instead of finding you somewhere crying, you should come to me and then start crying." She pauses, slows her walk and then stops. I look back, worried that I might find she has broken in to sobs. She has not. "Don't ever cry alone, Elsa. Promise me you won't cry alone."

Startled by the intensity in her voice, and eyes, I blindly agree. "Of course. Never. I promise." I try to convince Anna, convince myself, that I will not let myself be alone when I most clearly need another. "Let's collect dinner and then mother," I suggest, eager to pull myself and Anna from the subdued gloomy thoughts of tears and worrying.

Anna nods and sets off back toward the castle, myself falling in to step beside her.

* * *

**Let me know what you thought. **

**I'll have a chapter out on the 23rd. **

**-Whovian123 **

**marvelousgameofdisneythrones: Thank you. Yes, small men make large problems, let's hope Elsa stays on top of this...**

**Summer loving snowman: Thank you, (for the birthday wish and the complement). I can promise you the wedding, it will come up on a few chapters, probably... **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. That man may come back, probably not, he can't cause to large a problem... Can he?**

**nataliastorm: Thank you. **

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. Maybe there is more to him... or not... but maybe... **


	64. Chapter 64

**Hello! How are you all? Indeed that is good. I hope you like this chapter. I promise super intense action soon, not now, but soon. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

"You're a much better hiker than Anna." I call over my shoulder, keeping careful watch of my own footing, not wanting to suffer a rather embarrassing fall. Kasper grins at me, having jumped over a deceptive patch of ice sure to trip up any less observant climber.

"I roamed during my childhood. The mountains were not quite as tall, but I still did my fair share of trekking." He explains, sidestepping a patch of lose limestone.

The weather is fair, not much more than a smattering of light clouds in the sky. The snow in Arendelle has melted to make way for spring, but as we climbed higher and higher we soon found ourselves wading through snow as impressive as the darkest winter night.

Kasper had come to me in the morning, knocking on my door as I readied myself for breakfast. He asked how I felt about hiking; the grin on his face and the promise of mountains was too much to resist. I abandoned the paper work I had lined up and sped through breakfast, determined to not waste a day so fair.

"Careful there." I point to a thin sheet of ice stretched over a chasm that Kasper was poised to step upon. "I can't save you if you fall, not unless you are confident you could survive the fall with nothing more than a pile of snow."

"I don't particularly fancy a fall." Kasper works his way toward a plateau, stopping to turn back and stare at Arendelle. "Through a fall may be worth the view." We wait, paused next to each other on the side of the mountain, watching the clouds crawl above us, and seeing the ships coming and going from the fjord, more going than coming as an inordinate amount of guests have decided that today is the day to return to their homes.

I should be seeing the guests off, I should be wishing them fair weather and swift wind on their journey, but I had been pleasant and offered what smiles I could during my quick breakfast. I am sure not wars will be declared over a brief smile in the place of a proper farewell, perhaps from other things, but not that.

"Did you send a letter?" I ask, breaking Kasper form the spell of scenery. "Your parents, family; did you ever get around to sending a letter?" I try to remember if Kasper had mentioned a letter or the possibility of returning home in our walk up the base of the mountain.

He pauses, pulls his jacket tight around him, and then speaks. "I did, it went out two days ago actually." He toys with the wide beige buttons lining the front of his coat, distracting himself from something he is not entirely sure he wants to say. "I do miss them, and I do miss my home, but I don't know if I want to _go_ home." The buttons are abandoned as he closes his fingers in to fists by his side and returns his gaze to the view. "There are things here that are too great to be abandoned."

"Surly you could bring back with you the recipe for our smoked salmon." I offer up a joke, not sure how to navigate the response I have elicited.

"You cannot take a mountain from its land." Kasper speaks the way one does when recalling a lesson learned through childhood, then smiles. "Not to worry about that though, we have a castle to get to, wouldn't want it to melt before we get there."

I nod and return his smile, worried for his thoughts and why he might be sad, realizing that I do not want to see him sad, am willing, in fact, to do a fair bit to stop him from feeling sad. He marches ahead of me now, back straight and his hands pushed deep in to his jacket pockets.

"Can it melt?" He calls back over his shoulder, once again a picture of cheerful nonchalance. "The ice castle, is it some sort of special ice that doesn't melt?"

"I don't really know. It hasn't yet, and I did make it last during last summer, after my eternal winter ended that is. It isn't really all that special, just some walls and a roof." I try to lower his expectations, desperate to remember just how much rubble there is and how fractured the great vertical plains of ice are.

"Nonsense, you made it, it must be beautiful."

I smile to myself and watch my feet in the snow, finishing the rest of the walk in companionable silence.

As we round the final corner and come to the base of the ice stairway Kasper stops, his steps stuttering and his hands coming to rest at his side, open and loose. I flinch at the sight, having forgotten the true extent of the damage. My last visit with Anna has been sugar coated with good memories and time with my sister.

The large patch of railing missing from the stairway sends a shudder rushing though me. I remember how I watched from the top; saw Hans and the Weselton guards drop my golem in to the ravine. I recall the sound of my shoes against the ice, the clatter of the men behind me. They were not as fast as me, but I had yet to build up the courage to chance a jump from the balcony and hope I could conjure up a snow drift thick enough to save me from wherever I may have fallen.

His face is the easiest thing to remember in retrospect. It comes to me far faster than anything else. The way Hans looked at me, bold, desperate, and hiding fear. He looked a truly different man than that which I would come to know months later.

"It's beautiful."

My fists clamp shut and I force thoughts of Hans from my mind. "What?" I stammer. "It's a mess, everything's broken."

"Nothing can stay perfect, have you ever seen a sword after battle? Chipped and mashed metal, rusted and thick with blood, swords are pretty when forged, but magnificent when used. Being broken or chipped means that you decided something was important enough to fight for… You have to be willing to fight for the things that matter."

I lead Kasper up the steps, surveying the mess of ice and snow. He does not seem to mind, pays little attention to the shattered spikes on the ground and pauses only briefly to trace the frozen cracks in the ice. I am rather distracted by my memories.

He does haunt, me, I knew he would. He springs to life before me, conjured by the darkest parts of my mind, taunting me with the truth of my weakness. Hans was not the type to let death defeat him.

"He's here." I stammer, voice betraying how his memory still stings. "Not here, but still… here." I try to explain myself, to justify breaking an easy silence. "I remember him, and then things he said. Hans, his voice and his eyes, they are there when I close my eyes and still there when I open them… I don't think they will ever go away."

Kasper is silent, having turned from the castle. His eyes stare bright blue back at me, reassuringly not green. I do doubt my ability to ever feel safe near green eyes again. "I don't think I can tell you different." Kasper confides. "I don't know what it's like, or all of what he did to you, but I think you would have to be insane or sick to be able to just walk away from everything like it was normal, for him not to leave some sort of mark."

"But I have a mark!" I insist before my sanity catches up with my mouth. "I have more of them than I ever wanted. I have scars up my arms, burns crawling across my chest, a baby half his. I don't need another mark!" My voice is needlessly raw, thick with emotion that wells up in my throat and waits as a rock. "I don't want this reminder of him. He has my body, I just want my mind."

We wait, watching each other, neither of us sure of what to say. I ball my fists to stem my magic and then scramble for words, for a way to erase what I have said, to take the words from the air and force them back in to my chest. They can fester inside of me, fester as my burns have, and scar as my chest has; remind me every day that things I have hoped for my whole life were taken by a sociopathic man I married.

"Look inside." I offer uselessly as I sit on the ice stairs, letting frost and cold drain in to the railing, watching thin spikes grow out from my fingertips, coating the ice in what looks to be an exceptionally fine icy hair. "It had a chandler; it almost killed me when _he_ knocked it down."

Kasper toys with the door, fiddling with it. I can hear it, feel it even, given that it is my ice and I am so volatile right now. He closes it and takes several steps toward me, then stops. I let him wait, let him stand in-between the door and the stairs, caught undecided.

"Your mind was never his." He speaks; his voice small and cautious. "You never gave him that. You never gave him anything. He forced things on to you, forced himself-." I flinch at the words, wrapping my hands across my stomach, feeling the swell, the terrible obvious swell that taunts me through the day.

"Please stop."

"Ok…" He does not move; waits where he is, neglecting the castle. I wish he would leave, become distracted by my shattered ice. Being alone would be easier. It is easier to panic alone.

My fingers toy with my stomach, tracing with the slightest breath for pressure the curve and all it offers. I worry that the ice may hurt it. Worry even more so that the ice may take in it. I do not want my baby to have such danger about them.

"I shouldn't talk, I know." Kasper rushes the words out, as if he knows I will be quick to silence him. "But you were never his; no part of you was ever anyone else's. He did not deserve that fate he got; it was far too kind for such crimes against humanity."

"I hate myself for having killed him." I would laugh, almost do, at how terribly juxtaposed my feelings of guilt are. "I never wanted to kill, never could stand the thought of such undeniable evidence that I am dangerous… I almost killed Anna, almost. She didn't die and I didn't mean to hurt her… I wanted to hurt Hans, knew in that moment that I had to kill him, and he's always going to be there, reminding me that I killed him, that he owned me in life and that I cannot be freed of him even in death." My voice cracks and falls to a whisper. "There had to have been another way, a way to be rid of him without his death, no one can deserve death, can they?"

"I don't know." Kasper confesses, still not having moved. "Elsa, I wish I did know. I wish I could find what words you need. I wish that I could battle your ghosts and keep them from you. But I can't. I don't understand it; I don't see you as you see yourself."

Dragging myself to my feet I come to face him, see that his eyes are deep and lost. He wants to help, it seems to come second nature to him; helping, but he cannot help with me. Helping with this is impossible. Some monsters come with room for only one challenger. "It's not important. The day is too nice, a true preview for spring, let's not waste it on my inability to forget the past."

With a careful and reluctant nod Kasper finally commits to the door and holds it open for me as I step in to the ice palace. We roam the rooms, exchanging weightless chatter. I fix none of the damage; keeping each patch of debris as it was when it fell, let every crack remain as vivid and startling as it has ever been. It would be a lie to fix anything

Kasper marvels at everything, trying to bring my mood up, an effect he does not have to do much to achieve. We take to the highest level of the castle and enjoy the view. Let the world unfold beneath us, we as its rulers. People are doing this and that, sailors coming home with fresh catch and markets closing up so that everyone can be home in time for dinner. I do not imagine we will return in time for dinner, the trek is too far, perhaps a stolen sandwich form the kitchen shall sedate me until morning rolls about.

I pay morning little mind as we watch the sun glance off the fjord, the rich impossible gold's dancing with the water, bending to its will.

* * *

**Let me know what you thought.**

**I'll have a new chapter up on the 28th.**

**-Whovian123 **

**chinaluv: Thank you, Anna and Elsa gotta have each others backs in all the impending chaos. **

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. Creepo is out of the picture...probably... **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. He could raise all kinds of hell, hopefully he gives the sisters a chance to heal and adjust before he might maybe rear his ugly head again. **


	65. Chapter 65

**Hello! I have a niffty little chapter here for you. I hope you enjoy it. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

"Are you worried at all?" Anna asks; bringing me back to the world. I look up from my book to see her watching me. Spread across the floor of the library, having since abandoned her own book. She clarifies her rather abrupt question. "About the baby. Not the whole Hans… _part_, but _having_ it." Anna stumbles through her words, twirling from her back to her front and looking up at me. "It hurts a lot, doesn't it, I can't imagine it wouldn't."

Thumbing the pages of my book, a thrilling tale about a young boy and a beanstalk, I search for a reply. "I-I haven't really thought about it much, the future does… scare me a little bit. There is the potential for rather terrifying things."

"It's hardly the future; it can't be more than six months off." Anna insists. "I don't want to press if it makes you uncomfortable, I'm just a little bit curious about children and babies. I am getting married in a month and I really do want children, not quite yet, maybe not for a while, but eventually."

"You should not be thinking about that." I insist, startled that my little sister has her mind set on children. "Or maybe you should because you are getting married. I don't know. It's strange seeing you dealing when things like marriage and children. I didn't really get to see you grow up."

"It is strange for me to, to think about that, about children, and being someone's wife, but I love Kristoff, and I want to spend the rest of my life with him." Anna muses through her words. "Don't worry though, I haven't started thinking about baby names yet and I am still enjoying the ability to sleep in. I need to spoil my niece or nephew before I get to my own baby."

I worry about Anna, as I always find myself doing. Her wedding is terribly close, the usual crowds of foreign invitees having been forgone for the sake of an intimate wedding amongst Arendelle and its people. "Yes, yes I am worried." I confess. "It sounds terrifying, nothing I have read has made anything about babies seem any less terrifying and everything I read mentions the father, tells me what he ought to be doing and ways he can help."

Hans could never have been a father, and I would not have ever wanted him to be one for my child. My baby never stood a chance of having someone to call "papa" and my heart clenches and twists every time I worry about how I will explain why people never talk about King Hans and why he is hated so fiercely by our family.

"It mustn't be all that terrible, if it were mother would not have dared have me." Anna smiles; taking to her feet and placing her book casually atop a teetering stack of French novels that I received as gifts from several dignitaries in the wake of my baby announcement. Not the most typical gift for an expectant mother, but not the most typical circumstances to couple it.

"I can't imagine a world without you, without a sister. It would be so empty."

"And you ignored me for years." Anna jokes, her eyes betraying her.

"Anna." My voice catches and I hate myself. "Anna, please don't do that, you know now, you know that I was afraid and that I wanted nothing more than to be your sister. I still am your sister. I was a little girl that was terrified of herself and almost killed the most important person in her world." The pleading monologue springs from somewhere deep within me that I thought had healed. "I was full of rage at myself and the feeling that I might explode at any moment and I didn't know how to manage it. I wish I could change it all Anna, I wish I could go back and not hurt you, that I could tell myself to stop making it worse by staying inside, that I could tell you I love you and keep you company outside my door while we both wait for the pathetic little girl to gain control of herself."

"I know, Elsa. I do, I really, really, do, and it still hurts, and sometimes I think I'm angry at you, but then I'm angry at myself for not having remembered the truth, even though I didn't have my memories, or even for not having broken down your door and demanded you explain yourself." Anna mumbles. "We were too stubborn for each other, me unwilling to let go and you unwilling to do the same. I am glad I didn't though, you can't let go of family."

I do not like what I did. I regret my childhood with everything that I am. Anna did deserve someone better, a sister with more control, a sister that she could play with without worrying about being struck by ice and nearly dying. "Thank you for doing it, for being so perfectly stubborn. I know it wasn't easy, but if I didn't have you on the other side of the door I doubt I would have ever come to my senses, I would have managed my way up to that mountain and never come back."

"You wouldn't have been up that mountain without me."

"Anna that night was doomed with or without you." I want to make her feel better; need her so desperately to feel better. I want to take back everything that has ever made her sad, everything I did that ruined her day and made her cry. I never wanted my sister to cry. "You were the only thing I had to look forward to. I panicked that entire day, the entire month leading up to the coronation, I don't know if I could have gone through with it unless you were standing beside me." I could not have, I know I would not have been able to force myself in front of so many people, all of them judging me and my thirteen year long absence.

"You would have done it, you could have forced yourself out and then dragged yourself back in to that stupid room. I am not strictly necessary to any part of your life." Anna yanks at a tight packed shelf and huffs. "I am the spare, the incidental in the event of your untimely death before you manage an heir." She flips through the first pages of the book and then decides, with a rather aggressive snapping shut, that it is not the one she wishes to read. She jams it back in to place, taking care to line up the spine, and then beings browsing once again, continuing on with her rant. "Now that you have your baby on the way I have run out of usefulness."

"Anna." I insist, getting up, having abandoned all thought of finishing my book. "Anna you are important. You are more important to me that anyone else. I trust you more than I do anyone else and I know that you matter to everyone else too."

Anna pauses, waiting with her head bowed in front of the shelves, pretending to be reading the tittles of books. "I know I matter." She whispers, her voice slight and tinged with tears. "I'm nervous, things are strange right now. Mothers back… and father isn't. We feel fractured and lopsided, like our family doesn't make sense. And I'm not even sure mother will ever truly be back, she lost part of herself, she didn't all come back to us when we freed her, Hans took part of her and he took part of you and it's scaring me when I realize that you two might never come back to me."

I make my way to Anna, hating the sorrow in her voice and the defeated slump of her shoulders. "Don't you dare think like that. Anna do not ever think for even a moment that I will not always come back to you."

"Will you really come back, can you promise that?" Anna insist, panic rising in her voice.

"I can't, but I will. Because I know it would take forces beyond all that we know for me to stop coming home. So you never have to worry about me. Ok?" I pull Anna in to a hug, her arms snake around my waist and she hangs tight to me. She buries her head in to my neck and takes several shudder breaths.

"I fought so long for you to come back, for you to open the door, and then for you to tell me why you married Hans. Now that the door is open and the truth is out I worry that it didn't matter because you still aren't with me. You still keep your distance and I am terrified that you will never stop worrying by yourself and keeping secrets."

"Anna, I'm not keeping any secrets. I'm just scared, like you, what is going to come makes me scared, I don't want to have a baby and I don't what to know what the Southern Isles is going to do what that letter I sent them, or how they are going to react to Hanses body. And I'm scared that I am going to lose you when you get married."

"Elsa, you're not going to lose me, not ever, that's stupid."

"I could say the same to you."

I keep Anna close, letting her breathe shaky breaths. She doesn't let go, holds tighter to me still, her grip feeling desperate, as if I might drift from the world if she lets go in the slightest.

Then we break, Anna pulls her hands away and I let her step away. "I'm sorry this got sad, I didn't want it to get sad," she stutters, "sometimes I do get sad, and… just…" She bows her head and relents to the world, deciding that she has nothing more to say, that words will not work right now and that she has said what she can.

Anna turns back to the bookshelf, flicking several spines in an absent minded fashion. She decides upon one, pulls it out with ease, and then returns to her spot on the floor, having adorned it with a particularly comfortable rug and deeming it the best place in relation to the windows and the sun streaming through them.

I am left by the shelf, not yet willing to pick my book up once again and sit down as if nothing has happened.

My mouth hangs open, words not coming out, simply sitting in my throat, decided that they are best left unsaid in spite of my wishes. I mash my hands together, playing with my thumbs and circling my nails.

I do pick up my book again, making my way past Anna at to the table it rests upon. The ending is simple and terribly predictable; it would have been even if I had not already read this particular volume several times over. I have spent far too many evenings hiding in the library during the last several months, reading to escape whatever horror the day brought.

The spine fits as a puzzle piece would against the others on the shelf, deceptively level with the novels either side of it. "We should find mother." I break the brief stilted silence.

"What?" Anna looks up from her book. "We know where she is, she's here, in the castle, alive. That's more than I have known for the last four years."

"I know, but we are all a little broken and she's not here right now." I insist, filled with guilt. "Has she even been able to sleep through the night without a nightmare yet? I know I haven't."

"Last I saw she was leaving breakfast, she didn't tell me where."

"We can find her, while four years may have convinced us we are strangers there are things time cannot take."

Anna chances a small smile. "She'll be in the portrait hall then, she always loved looking at the fine paintwork, kept it as a hobby as I grew up, painting and looking. There is a big portrait of her and father in there, she will be spending the morning with him."

"Then let's go be with her, mourn and be a family, because I have waited too long for this to pass it up by being stubborn and needlessly uncomfortable with each other." I pull Anna from the ground, her laughing and shaking making it terribly difficult, and then leave her book on a table, deciding that family is much more pressing than books and the places they must be.

* * *

**Let me know what you thought. **

**I'll have a chapter up for all of you, my lovely readers, on the 2nd. **

**-Whovian123**

**marvelousgameofdisneythrones: Thank you. Kasper shall be hanging around for a while. Maybe. ~Author secrets~ **

**chinaluv: Thank you. **

**Goldie-Roth: Thank you. Love? Who said anything about love? Let's not get ahead of ourselves. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. I was/am very worried about properly writing Elsa's PTSD. I want to keep it authentic, reasonable, and respectful. I haven't gone through anything that terrible (thankfully), and am desperate to do well in getting inside Elsa's head. Representation of trauma and coping is not always excellent and I want to make sure people understand how complex it is. **

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. I don't have any links to the cover art as it is not posted on any art websites. It remains only viewable on the desktop version of this website. Sorry.  
**

**E-Sharp777: Thank you. There is much in store. Much. **

**David: Thank you. Indeed the story is a tad dark for Disney, but regardless. I am glad I was your introduction to fanfiction. Also your English is very good. **


	66. Chapter 66

**Hello. In this chapter we finally get round to a proper funeral. I hope you enjoy it and forgive it's shortness. I have a long one waiting in the woodwork, give it an update or two before you see it. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

After some negotiating and stilted chatter it was decided that father's funeral, the proper real one with his recovered body, would take place tomorrow. My mother's funeral stone would also be removed alongside my fathers altered grave.

* * *

It is a terribly sunny day for such things, but plans were made and it would be far too tedious and frustrating to unmake them and then remake them for another day on the whim of some sunshine.

We shield our eyes against the brightness, Anna, our mother, and I, all lined before where once stood two stones, upright, telling of my parents presumed death. Now there is but a single smooth gray boulder, my father's name inscribed upon it, _King Agdar_, and the adjusted date set bellow, reminding me that he spent three years aboard a boat hoping for freedom only to be killed mere months before I worked up the gall to take back what family I have left.

The original stone had taken hours to up turn, the diggers arriving with dawn and working through until the proper ceremony had begun. We waited with them, Anna, my mother, and I. We all rose at dawn, not intending to, but feeling compelled, and made our way to the gentle sloping hill, feeling that it would be a disgrace to let such an event, however mundane and unrelated to the true funeral, happen without either of us.

Guests arrive, the scatted dignitaries that remain in Arendelle for whatever reason, and the entire population of Arendelle itself. Rhere are rows of chair, more than we thought would be filled, but as it seems, far too few for the crowd. They face us and the stone, all of the attendees watching as the stone, the right one with the true facts, is sunk deep in to the earth.

Hundreds of condolences are offered. Hundreds say what they can to fill a hole far too big for words. I manage what smile I can, a rather sad one tinted with tears that I refuse to shed, and thank them. Anna does cry, leans against me as she tries to fight the shuddering sobs, it must be terrible going through the funeral a second time, knowing that he was alive as she mourned the first time.

Our mother does not cry, she refuses to do so, refuses just as I am, to weep before our people. She was queen once, seems to have no interest in being so again, but habits are terrible to break, they follow you and remind you of what you once were. When you lead you cannot cry, not in front of those meant to follow. Queens are to be ineffable.

They trail off, the condolences and the guests. Several hours later it is the three of us, and the stone, no one else. It is as if we dare not leave, are rooted to the ground because the idea of leaving is not something we have ever considered. The world beyond the calm slope of the hill feels as a dream to be, something that matters little and requires no ponderance.

With a silence shattering gasp my mother starts to cry. She need not lead us. Anna holds tight to my right side and my mother rests against my left, not accepting my offer to take her remaining hand. She shakes her head violently and curses several times, before stumbling toward the stone and then falling to her knees. Her palm does reach the stone, drags across its smooth surface with her fingers curling in and coming to a fist.

"We fought for so long." My mother's voice is broken, a shell of her strength and poise. "We promised each other that we would make it, that we would get out together and come back to our girls together." She begs of the stone, pleads with it as her voice breaks and her tears plummet to the ground. "You were going to come back, you were going to get to walk your daughter down the aisle and hold your grandchild. You were going to help me; we were going to help each other survive."

It is terrible. I have never seen my mother properly cry before; sob in the uncontrollable way I have become all too familiar with. It feels sacrilegious to intrude. She pounds the rock and traces the lettering. I know it will all do its good. We must feel and know a tragedy to move past it, we must be properly acquainted with who we are when all we know is stripped away.

It carries on for some time, Anna sobbing and shaking by my side, and our mother crouched before us, bartering with the gods for her husband's life.

She comes to a defeated slump before the stone, stops shouting, screaming, and begging. Her head stays bowed, her forehead pressed to the fresh dirt pilled in small hills at the base of the stone. Then she stands, pulls herself from the ground with effort visible in her frame and on her face.

I offer her my arm and pull her in to a hug, binding together what remains of my shattered little family. They need me right now, I do not need to cry right now, they need to cry and I have to keep myself as a pillar of morbid calm for a little while longer.

"It's worse the second time." Anna murmurs, having settled in to a blank stare and shallow breaths. "I thought that having done it once before would make the second time hurt less… It's worse." She lets her eyes bore in to the stone and its inscription.

"It won't hurt forever." I try to remind myself that pain does fade, along with scars.

"I don't think I want it to go away." Anna confesses, snapping back to the world, tearing her gaze from the stone and to my eyes. "If it goes away, if I ever manage to live my life without hating, every second of the day, that Papa isn't here with us, then I would feel like a monster… I don't want to forget him; I don't want his memory to slip away."

"You won't forget him, Anna." I assure. "He hasn't gone, not properly, as long as you know and honor everything that he was. It will get easier to remember, easier to know and think about… I hope." I am glad to have been present at the funeral this time, glad that I am able to stand outside with my family and a thousand others without panicking up a snowstorm. Being absent from the last funeral did make it easier, simpler; I did not have to accept the assumed death in the way I am forced to now.

We gather ourselves, running noses and red eyes are passed around and mopped up with sloppy fists and frayed sleeves. With regret and sorrow heavy in our hearts, and our steps, we leave the hill. It hurts again, fresher and older all at once, leaving him now, abandoning my father on a hill in a field. I do not want to leave.

The castle welcomes us back, filled with the stagnant dry that hangs during a crisp bright day. Every step we take serves as a hollow reminder that it is truly just us left. Our family is together the best it will ever be. I do hope that one day that feels like enough.

Anna mutters something to herself and our mother responds. They talk, back and forth speaking of something I cannot focus on, reassuring each other of the future. Their voices sound as if through walls and underwater.

Anything could happen. The future it terrifying and vast, I do not want to think of it. I do not want to consider than the Southern Isles will have received Hanses body and the meager letter than accompanies it. I refuse to realize that I ought to prepare for whatever response they will be sending, if it be a simple letter of apologies or a fleet of war ships.

I do not know how to handle Arendelle, not as I should. The day to day is simple, the planned for events and even the expected emergency is manageable, but this is terrifying. Father would know. He would know what to do because he never left me feel anything but safe. Before I hurt Anna he was my source of comfort and safety, he and my mother kept me from worrying and exploding even before I knew I was properly dangerous.

Even after I had hurt Anna and it was decided that I should keep myself from the world my father kept me sane. Mother tried and tried to understand me, to understand how I worked and why I did what I did, but father never did. It was easier when he didn't try. He knew that I was damaged and scared and terribly volatile. He would bring me books and offer me gloves, but never try to outright tell me lies. He realized that being nervous and scared made everything worse and he never tried to fix it, because he understood that in those years I could not be fixed.

I panic as I walk. My mind scatters and I remember all of my memories of my father all at once. Everything he ever was dancing before me, plasters across the walls. and the ceiling. His voice, horse from the conditions of his capture and smooth before he knew the inside of a cage, fills my ears and echoes through my head.

I want to cry. I can feel it welling up in my chest, aching too acutely to be kept in much longer. Crying in front of my sister and my mother is not an option. I promised Anna I would not cry alone, but this is not a sadness I can properly feel with other people.

"Got to lunch." I urge of Anna and Mother. "I don't think I'll be able to tolerate food or even the smallest group of guests right now. Please attend for me." I need my room as I used to as a child. It is my place in which I can be safe and explode quietly, where the only causalities are chairs and tables.

Anna nods and takes our mother by the remaining arm. "Don't forget that we are here, and that we are hurting just the same as you, and we would rather you hurt with us that curled up in a cold room." Anna insists.

I nod.

She disappears behind a corner and so does my mother. They will benefit from lunch; they will be with each other and be a proper tightknit family unit. I need to be somewhere else. I cannot imagine a meal now, not when my stomach is far too busy churning and dropping at the memory of my father.

I go to the library, my library. It feels mine more than any other place in the castle. It is one of the few places untainted by Hans. The halls echo his voice and he hangs on the walls of my room, his eyes sharp and ever watching.

Every book is tucked in its proper place. I sort the books when I am nervous, keep them all in their place because I can. My gaze wanders, scanning the shelves and pretending to look for the book, pretending I do not know exactly where it is.

The frayed edges and worn cracked spine stand out startlingly so. On either side of it rest pristine books, books read but once by hands equipped for books and keeping then together. The book I now have in my hands is the book of a childhood, a book read so vigorously that eagerness for story very nearly tore it apart.

It is a simple story, terribly kind and straightforward, that was bought for me as a baby. My parents read it to me constantly, and it was my main motivation in learning written language. I leaf through the pages listlessly, remembering my long nights alone with it, struggling to sound out words by the moon light, and then Anna's delight when I read it to her.

Father brought it to me when I took to my room, knew that I would need it during the difficult years to come. I think mother assumed I would not stay in for as long as I did, I think she thought I had more faith in myself that I did. Where Anna gained her optimism has never been a mystery.

Father knew it would take something incredible for me to be ok in the halls once more. He may have hoped that I could have been eased in to the world, but he never did try to force me out. He forced to try and cope with my powers, to wrangle them, but never to expose others to their danger.

* * *

**Please let me know what you thought with a review. **

**I'll have the next chapter out on the 7th. **

**-Whovian123**

**WinterKnight2104: Glad to see you are fond of Kasper, and of course the sisters are a close as ever. Everything is deceptively calm and simple... **

**David-3105: Thank you. Why yes, the Southern Isles are due for some attention. **

**chinaluv: Thank you. **

**HarmonyForever88: I can assure you the baby is fine, probably, maybe. You never can tell. And the Southern Isles will come up soon enough. **


	67. Chapter 67

**Hello readers. As you may have noticed, Fanfiction was down for the better part of the day, so this is coming out rather late. I expect not many of you will be awake to read it, but I don't want to abandon my schedule. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

"Elsa?" My name echoes through my room, disturbing my terribly late morning. "Elsa are you still asleep?" Anna asks, pushing open my door and peering in to my room.

"I have to sleep for two now." My groggy mind concludes that this must be the reason for my absurdly disturbed sleep routine. It seems reasonable enough.

"Perhaps you would be willing to eat for two at a picnic then?"

"A picnic? Anna I don't have time for a picnic, I'm behind on everything. I don't remember the last time I looked at a piece of paperwork. I can't imagine the state of my study." I remember, rather guiltily, that I have a country depending on me.

"You can do that later."

"It is later." I insist. "Regardless it's too early for a picnic, spring isn't here yet, not truly."

"You are the last person I ever expected to complain about a chill."

"I'm just trying to look out for you."

"Too bad. I have cloaks, and so does mother." Anna reminds me that extra layers can make for rather warm winter mornings. "You, me, and mother are all going to go on a picnic because we need to. We need this, Elsa. We need to do something together that isn't Fathers funeral or a boring dinner."

Agreeing, in spite of the work to be done hanging in the back of my mind, I clamour to my feet and then feel exceptionally proud of my ability to keep the contents of my stomach where they ought to be.

Anna takes off to acquire our mother and what food we will be feasting on. It would appear that I have missed out on breakfast and will be jumping forward to a large lunch. I dress quickly, pulling on a simple green thing, one of the few dresses left that fits comfortably over my swelling stomach. All of the others stretch and make everything overly apparent when I would rather ignore it and the feelings that tug at my heart and stomach.

Scurrying through the halls, with sleep still clinging to the corners of my eyes, I call out for Anna and my mother, hoping to find them. They are waiting for me in the entrance hall. My mother stands with her shoulders slouched and her eyes bright red. This picnic is clearly for her, most transparently a desperate bid to return her to life and reminder her that she ought not to let it pass by so simply.

I greet her with a gentle good morning and she returns it on impulse, seeming to remember, somewhere so deep insider herself that it is automatic, that it is something people do.

Anna is clinging to an oversized basket that has a quilted blanket tucked under the handle. "Let's head out, shall we?" She rushes her words, desperate for validation. I offer a smile and hope that Anna is encouraged, hope that she knows I am touched by her effort to keep our family from drifting off in to our own terrors.

The weather is simple, the standard type that fills your thoughts when you are not thinking of weather. There are several dull thick clouds that fringe the sides of the sky, and little wind, just enough to remind you that spring is still coming and not quite here yet. I blink at the sun; still remembering all too clearly what sleep is like.

We cross the bridge to the village and make small talk with several bold citizens, give them our well wishes and skirt the rest of the town as we make for trails and grassy hills.

The earth underfoot is soft and promising; it speaks of spring and the growth that comes with it. Anna declares the crest of the hill the ideal spot for lunch and launches the blanket in to the air, letting it drift open and then on to the ground, avoiding even the smallest of creases. The surrounding slope gives us the most exquisite view of the mountains and the fjords, laying them out as a picture painted with light and the breath of life.

"I brought us all rolls, fruit, and some smoked carp." Anna explains, nervously thumbing the lid of her basket. "I didn't want to bring an exceptionally heavy meal; it would feel out of place. And there is always dinner later; you can eat more then if you feel too hungry. " She mumbles, largely to herself, while settling down on the blanket and pulling the basket on to her lap, where her arms wrap round it and grasp it like a life line.

"That sounds lovely." I offer. "Anything more would not have sat right in the changing air." I call to the muddled up season, the time in-between winter and spring in which truly dead months must learn to grow again.

Mother nods alongside my reassurance, but does not speak.

Anna flips open the basket and doles out rolls with cores still soft and warm, and a selection of thick cut carp strips, so full of flavour that I can still smell the smoke used to cure it. We eat largely in silence, contenting ourselves with the sounds of chewing and breathing, until Anna feels compelled to try and help, as she always does.

"Father… would… not have wanted to ever see you so sad..." She stammers the words out in unsure chunks, pleading with our mother to see reason where there is none to be found. "I know you are sad, and you hurt so much because you loved him like no other, but we just got you back, and I don't know if I could bear to lose you again."

Mother closes her eyes, snapping them shut the moment Anna started talking. "Honey." Her voice is a scattered mess. "Anna, dear, I don't want to remember, remembering hurts like I hope you will never know, pray you die before Kristoff, pray you never have to wake up one day and realize that his face will never again greet yours."

"Mama please-." Anna starts.

"No." Her voice cuts like an icy chill and I know truly that our family has always known cold, though perhaps not as intimately as I do. "Anna no, not now, not here, he took me here, he knew exactly where the best view in the country was. Anna you get your taste in scenery from him."

Mother tells of other picnics, picnics before Anna and before me. Her and father getting lost in the hours, forgetting that time demands recognition. I can scarcely imagine what smiles they must have held as they found themselves having picnicked deep in to the night.

I do hope she can find it in herself to smile once more.

"Mama… he isn't coming back." Anna states, her voice no more than the slightest of whispers. "There is a time for sadness, a time to remember, and a time to be happy. Sadness will not bring him more peace, will not bring you more calm. Please Mama, come back to us."

"Do you think I am not trying?" Her voice is shrill, nearing hysteria. "Do you think I enjoy sadness, would be so inclined to hide from my daughters after too many years apart, after years of not knowing if you were safe while I was whipped and burned? Anna I don't what to think or what to do anymore. Everything feels like an unstable dream. Nothing adds up and my mind is abandoning me, I fear I have left too much of it behind in my cell…" She stops, her chest heaving and tears in her voice. "I just need you girls to be safe; I need the castle to shed its shadows and you two to be happy and safe. You girls being safe it enough… will always be enough."

"Well we aren't!" Anna declares, her voice a shout. "Elsa was attacked in the hallway. A man, foul as they come, took it upon himself to accuse Elsa of terrible things in her own halls, underneath her ceiling. He was going to hurt her, attack her, she fought him off but he came back the next day, we sent him away and didn't tell you because you are so distant and separate from us, hiding throughout all hours of the day, you appear when you need to, when you decide you ought to. Mama I need you to do more than what others decide you ought to, I need you to love us again."

"Elsa?" My mother exclaims, despair in her voice. "You were attacked? Are you ok? Who did it; I will have them most severely punished! I will not stand for either of you girls to ever feel uncomfortable again."

"It doesn't matter Mama. He is gone from here, I saw to it myself, watched the boat ready and then set sail with him standing atop the deck. He shall be of little trouble now." I try to assure her, release the tension and terror of attacks coming in what should be a safe castle.

"And you didn't tell me, neither of you thought to tell me?"

"it didn't seem like a good Idea at the time, I didn't want it to become… something more real, I didn't want it to blossom in to a problem like Hans." I confess, guilty for my secrecy and guilty for the problems I cause. They seem to chase me relentlessly.

"And because I am too distant, too sad…" She accuses, her voice trying to be angry, desperate to avoid seeing my logic but knowing that it could not have helped.

"Mama, we don't need you to be perfect, we don't need you to be happy all the time, we just need you, we need you to be honest with us and yourself and to know that there will be a tomorrow, and despite whatever despair you may feel it will come easier in time. Our family is rather talented at making it to tomorrow." Anna pleads.

All thoughts of picnicking have been abandoned. Our carp and rolls lie uselessly in the grass.

"I am doing my best." Mother tries to explain, takes the tone of someone trying to defend a wrong doing, yet completely defeated. "My best is not good, your father's best was far better. I grew to depend on him during the last few years, with him having made it so near freedom I feel disgusted with myself for having made it without him… I don't deserve to be safe."

"Everyone deserves safe." I blurt out, knowing now what I had to learn over thirteen years. "You deserve to feel happy, and safe, and to be alive, and you should never feel guilty of your fortune." I stammer and stutter, trying to make sense of the guilt that comes with good things.

"I need you to know that even if I spend the rest of time not feeling safe anywhere but the library, or my room, that I will still love you both forever. That can never change; you are my daughters, my everything. A mother's love of her daughters cannot be broken, not by anything."

My fingers fly to my stomach, a motion that does not go unnoticed.

I set my jaw and fight to defend myself. "Even if the father was… was…" My voice falls apart, a terrible mix of guilt and fear and the desperate need to love turning my words to liquid and leaving them to fall from my mind as water off the back of a duck.

"Hans." Anna fills in where I falter.

I nod.

"Nothing, Elsa, could ever make you do anything but love your baby." My mother promises me. "You are too amazing a person, and your sense of love too pure and blinding."

I nod again, trying to content myself with the reassurance, pushing away the thought of birth and babies that rest in arms instead of stomachs. It will be fine, I have to believe that some way I will be fine and that my baby will be fine and that together we will manage as well as anyone with a husband could.

"Please, let us all stop trying to brave the world alone, no one person can bear the weight of the world, we can share our pain and share our victory, all of it, together." Anna begs.

"Share our victories?" Mother repeats. "Last night I slept without dreams, no nightmares at all. It was the first time back in the castle that I manage to feel safe long enough to remember what proper rest was." She confesses.

"We get the nightmares too." I offer, nodding Anna's way. "It helps when you have someone there, they take the edge off."

"You two still sleep together?" Mother very nearly chuckles. "I was positive you would grow out of that, but, I suppose if it helps. Anything that helps…"

"Don't be ashamed to need someone." Anna prompts. "The beds of the castle are far too big to be reasonable; there is room enough for a small army."

After that the mood is lighter, still unreasonably heavy for a picnic, but it would seem that Anna's plan worked well enough.

* * *

**Let me know what you thought. I love reviews ever so much. **

**To make up for the hours this is late by I'll have a new chapter up on the 9th, because I am a wonderful generous author. **

**-Whovian123**

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. I did see the stills, it looks amazing. I am very excited. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Can't wait to write more. **


	68. Chapter 68

**Hello. As promised here is the next chapter. I know it's a small boring one, but I can promise you things pick up next chapter. I have it alreadying written and can tell you it's the longest one yet.**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

"Grand Pabbie can't sit near the back, really anywhere but the front would be a problem." Kristoff chats with Anna of the seating arrangement for their wedding; an event now set firmly one month from now.

"As long as there is room enough for the citizens of Arendelle." Anna insists. "There won't be any foreign dignitaries, not after the past months. It is going to be small, quiet, just us and the people that matter to us."

I watch Kristoff chew thoughtfully on a strip of pork and then stir his porridge round. "What about you?" He asks Kasper, looking across the table to him.

Kasper looks up, startled by being brought in to the conversation, clearly not having expected any part in the wedding. "I- um, I don't know. I'll attend of course, if I am still here. I can't imagine missing a wedding."

Mother speaks, having decided that her porridge is not worth eating. "Of course you will be invited. Foreign dignitaries are not anything we will be chasing after in the coming months, but of course you have proved that you are worth trusting."

I smile in to my own bowl of porridge, content in knowing that Kasper might spend one more month in Arendelle. All the other guests have finally filtered their way home, the last of the bunch having left for the docks but moments ago.

The future is a little patch of delightful clear with no foreseeable terrors in the coming weeks. Hanses family will only just have gotten my letter and will only now be formulating how best to meet the death of their prince.

Until then I will be fine. Until the fleets of the Southern Isles line the fjords I will convince myself to be calm. I can enjoy my family, love that they live and that I am here to live with them. I press a light hand to my stomach, reassuring myself that there is in fact a baby in there and that it is in fact still there. I squeeze my eye shut for a beat and then open them, trying to un-muddle my feeling for this baby.

Breakfast falls away, porridge being forgotten and left to grow cold. Kristoff and Kasper slip in to easy conversation, seeming to bond over ice and the harvesting of it, I have gathered that ice harvesting is a heavily practiced ritual from Kaspers home.

Mother, Anna, and I find ourselves caught up in matters such as trade and mundane politics, nothing so heavy as the southern Isles. I am reminded that a large shipment of spices is expected to be delivered within the next three days and that I have to set about rearranging the monthly trade schedule. Hans has left it in quite a state and Arendelle has found itself lacking in silk and fine fabrics of all kinds due to the ill-equipped hands of the Thirteenth Prince.

There are things we will need for Anna's wedding, specific lace and dyes that the seamstress has placed an order for. I number off the things that could go wrong, the cake, the weather, the citizens finding fault with something, Anna not finding something to be completely perfect, Anna tripping, spraining her ankle. Something will find a way to go wrong, but I shall not worry of that until the month is up, I will force myself in to these next weeks of peace.

"Elsa?" Mothers voice cuts through my mind. "Elsa? Are you going to stay here, or do you want to come with us? We have to pick up several clasps from the blacksmiths in the city, would you be inclined to join us?" She motions to Anna.

"Yes, of course." I jump at the opportunity to get out of the stagnant halls and in to the bright outside.

We trek through the halls, our steps urgent, as if none of us like the halls, none of us feel truly comfortable or safe within them. The doors swing open and I can hear Anna and Mother taking terrible long drags of air.

The day is light, clouds so bright they are nearly non-existent hang high above the mountains. The sun beats down with a timid heat that rests on the skin. I smile in to it, smile in to the day and love that it is so beautiful.

"Spring truly has settled in, hasn't it?" Anna muses.

Mother and I agree.

The town is crowded in a strange comforting way. People jostle about and generally care very little of us, not stopping to ask things, or demanding that we explain ourselves. Anna collects her clasps, stating that Kristoff needs them for his suit; one is being made up for him as he never had need for formal wear in the mountains harvesting ice or among the trolls.

We browse after that, Anna racing off after she remembered that she needs a new comb, her other one having given up the fight against such unruly hair. Mother follows behind her, determined to keep her from over indulging.

I stop at the bakery, deciding I can stray on my own for a while, and select a sweet roll filled with jelly. I recognizing the little boy, Alex, helping about in the bakery, being delegated harmless simple tasks by the man that I assume is his father. "Queen Elsa!" He looks up from a bowl full of flour and rushes past the counter to greet me. "I saw you talking to everyone a few days ago, I tried to wave but I don't think you saw me." He references my last address in which I told the country of my personal terrors.

"Of course I saw you." I do not want the boy to feel dejected. I am terrible at picking a face out of a crowd. "I couldn't wave back because it was a serious talk."

"I know. My mum told me it was for adults only, she said it was adult talk and that little boys shouldn't worry about stuff like that."

"She was right."

"Alex!" The taller man that had been poking at something in the oven turns to the abandoned bowl of flour and jumps with a start. "Where are you- What? Oh… Your majesty…" His voice falls to a whisper as he looks at his son and then me.

I straighten up, having previously squatted down to Alex's height, and greet the man. "Hello, you must be Alex's father?" He nods. "I would like to buy this." I hold the jelly roll, smiling as Alex races for his father's arms.

"See daddy, I told you me and the Queen are friends. You didn't believe me." He flicks his hair, brown and flecked with wanton four, out of his eyes, and beams at his father with a wide smile.

The man, the same brown hair sprawling across his head, motions to the counter and pulls out several coins, making change and then asking me if I would like anything else, I say no.

"He's right, Alex is, I didn't believe that any royalty would take the time to make sure my son found his mother when he got lost. There is… rather a lot more to our monarchy than meets the eye… it would seem." The man stumbles through his words, squeezing his son tight in a hug for a moment and then reminding him of the abandoned flour, sending him back to work. "Is it true… the things you said about the late King Hans?"

I feel my chest tighten and my breath rush out before me. "I-I can assure you that I have not lied about anything." I stammer and sound a lying fool, why can't I manage, why can I not simply pick up where I left off and be ok.

"And your… baby… the heir, it truly is his?" He sneaks looks at how own son, keeping careful watch that he is distracted by work and not listening to what ought to stay between adults. Not that I even feel as if this is information to be discussed by random members of my country.

"Yes." I push the word past the swelling lump in my throat, force a gracious smile for the man that is simply a victim of curiosity and then bid Alex a swift farewell. He smiles back, covered in more flour and oblivious to anything that has been said. Nothing more need be said.

Then I take to roaming about. I find Anna and our mother. They have selected several small trinkets and I pause briefly when I see a small cloak, a cloak designed for the smallest of children. My baby will need a wardrobe, though I will wait several months yet to collect that. I haven't the desire to worry about appropriate colours for whatever gender my baby may turn out to be.

"I was thinking about him this morning." My mother says. "Your father… I was remembering him when we were young… I want to bring him flowers." His grave, she means his grave, but I still start for a moment, panic and worry that I have missed something, hope in a shattered moment that he might be alive.

I nod and Anna speaks. "You should. He would have liked that, being able to smell them forever, I hope."

We buy, from a sweet slight lady at a small stall, a wide bundle of pale purple flowers. They are dainty things, light with spiraling stems and more leaf than petal. They are wrapped up in a bow and perched in our mother's arm, as she used to keep Anna when she was first born.

It must be nearing midday when we crest the hill, noon at least as we stand before the lone grave. The weather has settled in with thick clouds that sprung out of nowhere and are determined to hang low over Arendelle, keeping the mountains out of sight and sending a comforting cold in to the air.

Anna and I stand at our mothers shoulders, each taking one side, each of us wanting to stand straight and willing to support should the need arise. Her hand trembles as it stretches out, her arm shakes, trying to balance the flowers without a second hand, without the hand that ought to be there.

They land clumsy against the stone, resting at an awkward angle. I smile, it bubbles against my cheeks and demands that my face stretch for it. I am happy at the peace, happy for the calm and the quaint that comes with flowers and a grave. Maybe he is happy too. Maybe my father is happy somewhere, or content. I hope he is.

"It's strange the things that I have to relearn." Mother says, looking down at her stump. The bandage has been removed from it and pink skin stands out, her elbow is gone, ravaged by infection and decay. "I reach for things, or try to open doors without thinking, and then it's not there, it's like grabbing at air, but the other way around, air grabbing at things it can never touch." Her left hand, her only hand, grabs at her stump, and feels about the mass of scar. I try to ignore the tight muscles in her neck, the tension and anxiety that hangs in her movements.

"Time." I mutter, looking forward past the gravestone and out toward the fjord, watching the thick gray waves lapping at the shore. "Time will help."

It has to. At some point even the most grievous of wounds must be smoothed over and made manageable.

We give the grave the rest of our day; wait until deep in to the night before we decide that we are too cold to be outside anymore. Rather, Anna and Mother are cold, and I know I would be without my magic. I accommodate them, nod as they shiver and pull my ice within me, struggling to make sure I keep them as warm as I can.

Such things will not be troublesome for much longer. Spring is too near, properly settling in. Already the days are longer. Anna's wedding is but four weeks away, terribly close and intimidating.

* * *

**Let me know what you thought. **

**Next chapter will be out on the 14th. **

**-Whovian123**

**David-3105: Thank you. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Yes there is quite a bit of healing to be had all around. **


	69. Chapter 69

**Hello. This is a big one. A very big one... Also sorry about the end... **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

The week passes well. Little of note occurs. While my nights are still fitful I no longer scream so loud when I wake up. More often than not Anna and I concede in out fight against solitary nights and find out way in to each other's company. Mother stays with us too, we pack together in whoevers room is closest and hunker down, doing our best to last the night.

We manage, and we manage well.

Anna continues planning the wedding; obsesses over details, watches over her dress, and worries about weather and cake. With only three weeks left she keeps a careful countdown of the days, reminding Kristoff every time she sees him that they are no more than a handful of days away from being husband and wife.

Everything is routine and smooth, easy and nearly natural. My life is bearable, not perfect, but I can have faith in tomorrow and the fact that I will see it. I smile and laugh, sit through dinner without trouble. Kasper and Kristoff banter about ice harvesting and mountains. I listen, intoxicated by how mundane and domestic everything feels.

"What could you possibly need ice for in your kingdom?" Kristoff asks of Kasper. "From what you tell of it, it never gets to be all that warm."

"Most cases we never need it, for maybe a week during the height of summer we need the cold to keep food, not that much can go properly bad in a week, but ice is ice and we find uses for it, sometimes just to transport water. It's easier than buckets." Kasper explains.

"What else do you trade in?" My mother asks. "Is there anything that Arendelle could have use for? We have plenty of goods that you might be interested in." It rests strangely in my chest when I think of trade with Kasper; it feels bazar when I realize that he is only truly a potential trade partner, a replacement for the Southern Isles and Weselton.

"We do not deal in a great deal of things." Kasper explains. "We are largely self-sufficient and content with what we have and we use most all of what we can comfortably take from the land. Some fruits and dyes have started to make their way to us, along with some bits of gold jewelry and bright gems. We have yet to jump in to the politics of the world, and I do not think we ever will. We are happy where we are and no one else likes the cold as much as us, we don't have to worry about wars or friction with other countries."

"We have silver, and a considerable array of furs and woolen cloaks." I run through a list of everything I know Arendelle still has, everything that Hans did not find a way to ruin. "Cheese and fish?" I add. "We do make some excellent cheeses."

Kasper grins and tells me that when he next sends a letter home he will mention trade and all Arendelle has to offer, promising that he will speak highly of the country and suggest an alliance. He explains that he is expecting a letter back from him family within the week and is rather worried about what they may have to say to his extended absence and silence regarding it.

"Surly you miss your parents?" Anna blurts out. "Your sibling's as well. I can't imagine being gone from Arendelle so long, I haven't every actually gone anywhere." Anna's voice takes on life of its own and launches in to a long winded description of everywhere she's heard of and where she hopes to go, someday.

"I do miss them, but having never been away from them it is freeing to be away for a little bit, becoming my own self." Kasper smiles agreeably, speaking for his family before Anna's question is forgotten. "Knowing that this is me and not them."

The rest of dinner is passed with brief silences, hearty laughs, and perfect wonderful conversation.

Then the double doors fly open and Gerda stumbles in to the hall, her eyes wider than any should ever be, and her mouth working furiously, trying to force something out.

"There's a ship." She stammers, clutching the table and tripping her way over to me. "There is a ship, a ship spotted at the entrance to the fjord. It came out of nowhere; we didn't see it until too late to do anything. We don't know what to do. It's the Southern Isles. Their flag, they fly the flag of the Southern Isles."

There it goes, everything falls away and I lose all rational, all anchor in the world. I grasp at my arm rests, they shatter, completely frozen. I try to speak, try to scream, or to curse, to do anything thing at all that gets it out of my chest. I need to get the acid feeling out of my chest; need the burning heavy searing weight of terror to be gone.

Not now, not yet. I knew something was coming, would have been a fool to hope otherwise, but I wanted Anna to at least have her wedding, perfect and wonderful, before something happened, before the Southern Isles addressed what happened to their thirteenth prince. Anna deserved some peace, and our mother deserved more time to heal, more time to be safe. I had longed for some months to adjust, the chance to walk with confidence, without the fear of being beaten when I turned corners.

"How long do we have?" Someone asks, I think it's my mother, I am sure she is speaking, talking and trying to work out what must happen now. How long until the ship docks? Who might be aboard? I cannot breath, as for a moment I worry it is Hans. I worry that some terrible tragic magic has brought him back to this life and that he will reap his revenge, tear my family apart again, only so brutality this time that we might never find our way together again.

"Four hours at best, no less than three." Gerda confesses.

"Ok," Anna stands, her face overcome with a hard determination that breeds inside of her at all times, "we are going to meet them, we will wait for them at the docks and not let them set foot on our land. Arendelle will not play host to anyone belonging to the Southern Isle royal family."

"You're right." I pull myself from my chair, rest terribly on my feet. "We have to meet them, have to head them off. We need to prove that we are strong and that whatever they want they will not get." I need to appear strong, wise, and sane. I need the Southern Isles to think I am formidable. "Whatever they have to say will be dismissed. They will be sent away without so much as a single word."

My fingers twitch and shake, snow clouding around my body. I am losing it, slipping out of reality and falling in to a panicked plane of in-between and memories. I do not want to meet whatever might be on that boat. I cannot muster up the courage to move, to leave the dining hall, to shift at all.

"Elsa?" Someone tries to take my hand. "Elsa are you ok?" I flinch and bat at the hand, sending snow to meet whoever was foolish enough to touch me, panicked at the intrusion of my space.

It was Kasper. He is dazed on the floor, his shirt thick with snow and ice tangled in his hair. No, I didn't do that; I couldn't have lost control that terribly. I can't hurt anymore. Not Kasper, I can't hurt Kasper, not the people that matter to me. I can't hurt anyone else; Anna's here, my mother is here. I can't hurt anymore people.

"No. No, no, no. No." I mutter, stammer, and scream internally. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I can't- I'm-." My voice stops and I back away from Kasper, Anna, Kristoff, and my mother. I pull my hands to my chest; press them away from everyone, everyone that is so fragile and venerable to a chill.

Their mouths are moving, working furiously, but I can't hear them. Shutting my eyes I blot out the rest of the world, take everything else away. I need to stop the feelings, the terror, and the fear. I claw at my arms, try to feel something I can control, try to convince myself that I am in control of something.

"Elsa, please, no, don't do this." Anna pleads, her voice breaking through the muddled haze of my mind in a desperate rasp. "You're safe, please, you are safe. We will keep you safe, I promise I will keep you safe."

I know that logically I must be safe, that whatever is on that boat cannot get through guards the way Hans did. Every effort has been made to improve the security. People have been replaced and training has been perfected. I am safe. I should know that I will be safe, but I cannot convince myself to breathe.

"I'M FINE." I shout, then dash in to a splutter. "Sorry, I didn't mean- please, just- don't try to do anything. Just give me a moment." My eyes fly open and I stare at the ceiling, swallowing thick regret and pain, desperate to stop panicking. No one has ever gotten anything out of panic.

Panic does not help.

"Elsa." Anna asserts; her voice strong and commanding. My eyes snap from the ceiling to her face. There is an air of business about her, the subtle demand for compliance in her eyes. "You are not allowed to do this, not right now, we need your wits about for whatever is on that boat."

"Yes." I find myself nodding. Anna knows that I need to be talked down from this dangerous swaying precipice, and she knows that we do not have the time for kind words and soft talks. I need to be jarred out of this spiral, thrown from the pattern completely.

"Gerda." I address the baffled and scared woman. "Call the guards to the dock, I will meet them there in twenty minutes, we will discuss the protocol aboard the dock."

"M'lady." Gerda starts, her voice wavering as she takes in what I am sure must be my dispassionate features, I need to stay detached for my thoughts to continue un-turbulent. "Is it wise for you to meet the boat? Perhaps you are safest in the castle. Your guards are capable."

"No. I have to meet this head on; I cannot flinch, waver, or show the slightest trace of trepidation. If the guards are as capable as you believe then surly I will be safe throughout whatever may come and need be I have the power of ice to call upon. I will not sacrifice the safety of my family." My hand finds its place over my stomach, cradling my baby the best I can. I do not know what Hanses people may want, and I know not what they may know, but I do worry that my baby may get caught up in a terrible feud.

I rush through the door and make for my room. I hurry through the hallways, not daring a glance back. I do not want to face my family, see the worry and fear that is sure to grace my mother's weary and scared face. I do not want to watch as Kristoff tries to shield my sister from me, as if I might hurt her, because I might. I do not want to catch Kaspers eyes and see the disgust, the terror, and the cold fear that all sane men have buried under their grandeur when they meet me. He will know now, he will know just how unreasonable a friendship between us is. He is most clearly not safe, not within these castle walls.

Hans was a danger, true, but I have always been more so. Hans wanted to hurt and so he did, I panic, and cry, and smile, and feel anything at all, and it causes terrible storms when I do so. Being with me is to swim with the greatest of sharks on the good faith that they will not find themselves hungry in the coming hours. I can always snap, I can always hurt, and kill. I will never be properly safe.

The panic and the realization wrestle in my chest as I come to my room. I rest my forearms in the door as I close it, sealing out the things that can break, sealing out people and their warmth. My breath is uneven and terribly shaky. I force it to come in a rhythm, demand that my knees shore up and stop threatening to cave under me.

I can control this, not well, but I can. I can rein it in with minimal icing. I slam my hands, fists tight and thick, against the door. I am better than this. After everything I have fought I know I can fight this. I launch myself from the door and come to rest in the center of my room, as far from walls as one might get in the space.

The ice is there. I know it to be. I always know, somewhere in the back of my mind I always know where snow and ice do rest. I pull it up, sweep it to a large ball, a malformed clump, and stow it where it cannot do damage.

Five rhythmic knocks sound at my door. They are knocks I know, knocks that follow a timid pattern I have trained myself to crave and ignore. "Elsa." Anna calls, timid, through my door. "I am, um, I'm coming in, if that's OK…"

I do not speak, am not all that sure that I can at this moment.

Anna peers through the door, her shoulders squared tight and her eyes nervous. She makes her way in to the room, busying herself with the gentle, soundless, closing of the door behind her.

"I'm sorry." My voice sounds too loud in the room. "I wasn't expecting anything from the Southern Isles so soon. I had hoped against hope that perhaps they would never come to question much of what happened here. It was rather foolish of me really. I shouldn't let myself be so simply scared; it is not particularly safe for those around me." I try to explain myself, try to make Anna understand, and to validate whatever might have happened to Kasper.

"He's ok, if you were wondering... I know you were." Anna entertains a ghost of a grin for a moment. "Kasper is a fair bit more resilient than you seem to think. It takes more than ice and snow to kill a man."

"No it doesn't"

"Yet he walks and talks as so many live men do. Perhaps we ought to tell him he has truly died?"

I smile. Anna is too good at making me happy, far too good at it. "Mother and Kristoff too? Are they ok? I am sure I did not hit them, but chaos clouds the mind."

"Everyone is absolutely fine, Elsa, we intend to continue being so." Anna reminds. "The Southern Isles are not enough to change my stance on life and my continued living of it…" She walks further in to the room now, past me and through to my closet, picking through the dresses and cloaks as she talks. "You do not have to meet this boat, but I know you will; I am not here to dissuade you. I am here to dress you, something appropriately formal that keeps your… stomach… well hidden. News of your child cannot have spread all that far yet and I do not imagine you want whoever is on that boat to know that you are carrying a member of their royal family."

I run my fingers across my waist, feeling the rather present lump and knowing that whatever dress Anna may be looking for cannot possibly exist. All any swath of fabric could do is make me look a bloated mess suffering though the first or second month of child bearing, not the near four months I am at now.

"Are you scared of what might be on that boat?" I ask.

Anna pauses, her hand trailing across a garment of fine Indian silk. "Of course I am scared, petrified, and terrified, all mixed up in a ball of nerves. You should count your lucky stars that I was not born with powers of any sort, lest they spiral worse than yours ever have." She decides that the Indian silk will do the best job at covering my stomach, a choice I am not quite sold on.

"You don't have to be scared." I feel a hypocrite telling Anna not to worry, but in spite of my own fear I want for Anna to feel none. "I know it's foolish and strange for me to say that when I myself am in such a… state."

"We are both foolish, Elsa. We are a terrible foolish set of sisters that have found themselves with a country to run, a mother to fix, and an angry boat waiting outside." Anna brings me the dress.

I change quickly; my previous dress is far too casual and old for intimidating the Southern Isles. I pull at the ribbon stringing up my back. My arms are exhausted, as is the rest of me. Anna takes pity on me and hushes me and places my arms back at my sides. She makes quick work of the bodice and its lacing. She lets me feel like a child for a moment, lets me be coddled and utterly useless in these moment before I must go to face whatever waits in my fjord.

She ties off the top and sets my hair about my back. "There." She assures. "You look more imposing that any other Queen, even more so that that woman prancing about on the English throne."

"Anna, you should not speak ill of such a powerful woman."

"That is exactly what I plan on telling whatever men the Southern Isles have sent here."

I do not bother with a mirror; do not truly care how I look. If I do look as imposing and queenly as Anna says then it would do nothing but unnerve me. I do not like seeing myself so terribly detached and _strong, _it feels like a lie.

"I suppose I've kept the world at bay for long enough." I announce, turning to Anna and chancing a ridiculous smile. "Whatever waits out there cannot possible be more than I have been through. If I can make it through that intact then I can certainly make it through this."

"Elsa." Anna returns my goofy smile. "At this point, in all utter honesty, I do not believe there is anything in this world, or any other, that could ever truly break you."

"You have too much faith in me, Anna."

"I have to, you have too little."

With that we leave my room. We find Mother, Kasper, and Kristoff gathered in the entrance hall, coupled with several groups of guards.

"Elsa." Kaspers face fills full of rich expression. "Elsa. You're ok." He breaks from the small group and takes me in his arms. "When you left, your face, you looked so terribly defeated. I tried to go after you but you sister told me I best not, I wanted to though."

"Really?" I let words spill out on Kaspers chest, taking him tight in to my own arms as well, letting myself drown in his sweet warmth for just a moment, it is the only type of warmth I can manage. "I panicked, I was worried that you would hate me, I lose control and people that matter tend to get in the way."

"At least now I know that I matter."

We break apart and I come to face my family and the guards. "I suppose we best leave for the docks. It will be a while yet before the boat reaches shore, but I really don't think I will be able to force myself out there in any other moment."

Outside the air is sharp and the sun setting. A villainous golden glow glances off the trees on the mountains and across the chopping waves of the fjords. I can see it, if I look past the bright rays of dying sunlight, I can see the small boat that is soon to grow much bigger. I know not who might be on it, or even the proper official reasoning they will have for coming, but I know what has spurred this _visit_.

The salt hangs thick in the air as we near the docks. It brings back terrible memories of seeing my parents tied up in a dank room on a boat. It reminds me that my father was here, that he was taken from me when I did all that I could.

We line the edge of the battered and soaked wood. My mother stands to my left and Anna to my right, Kasper flanks my mother and Kristoff Anna. Beyond that wait lines of guards, their hands held firm at their sides and their swords strapped tight to their waists.

"That flag." My mother breaks the twilight silence. "It brings with it a host of dreadful memories."

"It shouldn't do for much longer." Anna promises. "After we are through with this it will remind you only of how strong we have become and how much we can do."

"My little girl, when did you get to be so terribly wise?"

"I don't quite remember, it just happened at some point along the way, or maybe you and Elsa finally rubbed off on me." Anna muses to the fjord, keeping her head squared, her chin up, and her eyes set like stones. She has taken on a determined mindset. She has no idea what might wait on the boat, but she is absolutely willing to do anything to keep it from tearing apart all that she has gained in the last year.

The boat swells in the coming hour, reveals itself to be larger than I hoped, yet still smaller than I expected. Perhaps this is not so great a threat as we had worried, perhaps this is simple and easy and I have worked myself to a state over nothing at all. Perhaps I will be met with a letter of condolences and some gift to "smooth things over" as it were.

When it, at last, reaches the wood of the dock I feel my fists clench tight and my shoulders tangling in a knotted mess. I remind myself that the Southern Isles has no advantage to speak of. My family is with me, I control my county, and I have lost most fear in defending myself and my baby when the need truly be.

My chest starts flaming as I realize I have forgotten to breath. Dark shadows aboard the ship hurry about, lashing the boat to the dock and securing it in places. It is pulled tight to the wooden planks and then several men disembark. I signal, with a sharp flick of my wrist, for my guards to shift in to neater, tighter ranks about my family and me.

A grouping of four men, dressed in what I recognize to be the Southern Isles crest and colours, approach me. The guards closest to me shift all at once, reaching their hands atop their swords and sending quite a clear message. I am protected, and these men ought to stop before they find the cool tang of steel at their throats.

The four men stop, and one clears his throat. "Your majesty Queen Elsa, may we approach you, we come a letter from our royal family and nothing else. I can assure you with the upmost sincerity that no harm will come to you from me or my crew while we are docked here."

"You may proceed." Not wanting to seem paranoid or intimidated I allow the men to approach. The one that had spoken passes me a thick envelope with battered corners and a delicate wax seal of the Southern Isles crest. It is heavy in my hand.

"Our King and Queen have asked that we remain docked for no more than the time it takes to sleep and reload the ship with rations, we are not to wait for a letter back. Might we find lodging in the city for the night and then take only what we need in the morning before setting out back to our home?" The man's voice is strong and tempered with years of yelling at sea, but behind it all he worries, worries that I will send him away now with no sleep and no food.

"Of course, we are a hospitable people, take your leave and I will be sure to have barrels and boxes waiting for you aboard your ship come dawn." I grant the man his wishes and motion for him to leave. He and the three other men clamour aboard the boat and finish shoring up the vessel for the night with the rest of the crew.

I walk back to the castle, the letter clutched in my hands and held close to my chest. I do not want to open it.

* * *

"Together." Mother says once we have returned to the castle. "We can all open it together if you like." We have returned to the dining hall, it seemed the most convenient place for the five of us.

"I suppose." I turn the parchment envelope over in my hands, ignoring the salt that clings to the envelope and the muted crinkling of the paper inside. "It is better than alone in my room."

Mother pulls a small knife out form her sleeve, when did she start carrying a knife about her? I suppose it is a reasonable response to her ordeal, but I still startles me when I hear the sound of metal on parchment.

* * *

**Please do let me know what you thought. I would love it very much. **

**I will have the next chapter out on the 19th. **

**-Whovian123**

**Summer-loving-snowman: Thank you. Aw, don't feel bad. It's going to be very strange when this ends, but onwards and upwards I suppose. I have quite a few new projects I am looking forward to. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Oh there is a foreboding air about, indeed there is. **

**Random: Sorry. I can't promise it won't happen again. **

**David-3105: Thank you. Hopefully this chapter makes up for the shorter ones previous. **

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you so much. The wedding is only a few chapters away. **

**chinaluv: Thank you. **


	70. Chapter 70

**Hello my pretties, and whatever little dogs might be around you at the moment. I have another chapter for you.**

**I hope you like it. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

The parchment slips out of the envelope with a whisper of air. Mother hands it to me. "You ought to read it, being as you are Queen." I nod and take the letter.

My fingers shake and go numb as I pry the well folded and pressed paper apart. The ink is a thick consuming black against the mottled yellow.

_Dear Queen Elsa of Arendelle,_

_In the wake of your letter, and knowledge of recent events, the Southern Isles has deemed it suitable recourse to send a dignitary to Arendelle in one month's time. This dignitary shall not be met with hostility and will be hosted until Prince Hans Westerguard's heir has been born. Once the heir is able to make the journey across the seas it shall be returned to its rightful country without quarrel. _

_ -King Frederick of the Southern Isles_

"Elsa, what does it say?" Anna brings me out of my reverie.

"My… Um… The- the Southern Isles are coming- coming for my baby." I stammer, furiously blinking back tears, startled by the letter and the abruptness of its commands. I do not want this, this is not good. This is terrible. I cannot give them my baby; dare not let my child fall in to such destructive hands. I mash the paper in my hands, crumple it to a terrible ball, and then release it on the table.

"They won't have it." My mother declares, her voice spilling out at great speed. "Not my grandchild. I will fight then on this, we all well. They shall not set foot on this land a moment longer. I am going down to that dock right now and setting their boat alight." She pushes her chair back and makes for the door.

"No." I reach out to her, clasping my fingers tight around her stump. "No, don't they aren't part of this. A dignitary is coming in one month. To ensure the baby is properly cared for before and after its birth." I explain. "Just let those men be, we shall see to it that they leave as promised in the morning."

She does relent, rather reluctantly, but does not return to her seat, instead takes to slow pacing. "I will not have this- this _dignitary_ about the castle, looking at you and watching you. Stalking about the halls and keeping his eyes sharp for my grandchild's birth. I don't care that the father is Hans; the baby belongs here, in Arendelle, with you. You're its mother; a baby needs its mother."

"And we will see to it that Elsa is kept completely safe at all times." Kasper breaks his silence and assuages my mother. "I know that I am a guest in this land, and I do intend to earn my keep through my loyalty and protection. All I can offer will be as your daughter's disposal." I catch Kaspers eyes flicking quickly to me and then back to my mother. "I don't want to see her hurt."

"None of us do." Kristoff mutters. "She is my Queen and soon to be my sister in law. I do not like what Hans did, not to anyone in this country." Anna places a soft hand over his, and smiles a quiet smile.

"You mustn't let this take away from your wedding." I insist, forgetting my own worry and downing in the terror that I have taken, yet another, happy occasion from Anna. "You have to go through with it, it needs to happen, before things have a chance to get bad again."

"Elsa." Anna says. "Things will not get bad again, and you can be sure I will carry on with the wedding exactly as planned, it isn't a full month away, it shall have come and gone before this dignitary even sets foot ashore. You need to worry about nothing, not now and not when this dignitary's boat docks. I promise you I shall see to the end of any terrible men that wander our way."

I let out a trembling breath I had let build up in my chest. Anna can still be happy. Anna will still get her day, and that marvelous moment draped in white and clutching flowers. She will get to smile with the man she chose and know that he will be with her until the end of time, because he loves her so much. It is obvious to all that he loves her, it is written in everything that he does, the smallest shuffle of his feet when he wishes he might be nearer her, the way his eyes flick back to her in every instance as moths do to firelight.

"I think I might take my leave for the day." I mutter, my mind flooding with memories of my own wedding. It lies in stark contrast to whatever will come when Anna finally takes to the aisle. Kasper shuffles furiously to help me from my chair, his hand wrapping around my own.

"Are you sure you want to be on your own." He asks.

"I'm not particularly sure."

"Then I shall walk you to your room, if you will permit me to." His eyes beg of me to not shut myself away so abruptly after having read the letter that my mother is now poring over.

I nod. Kasper lets my hand fall away, seeming only to realize that he has been holding it when he looks down and see his fingers wound in and about my own. We leave Anna to be with Kristoff and my Mother, they can read the letter if they wish, study each word and letter as if they might hold a hidden code telling of a secret way to keep the Southern Isles at bay. I know that there is none.

The halls are a puzzle, their winding seeming to hold new worries and monsters now. This unnamed dignitary presents itself in every slight creak of a floorboard and the memories of Hans still flit about just below the surface of my thoughts. As Kasper falls in to step with me I am reminded of my wedding night. I push it away, ignore that the halls feel the same as they had that night.

"I know you're going to be worried." Kasper speaks as we come to a stop outside my door. "More and more I realize that I might never have to worry over anything again because you worry enough for all the Kings and Queens in all the land."

"It's a terrible habit of mine." I confess that which is rather obvious to all who meet me. It takes out hours of my night that I would rather spend sleeping. I toss and turn and struggle with my sheets, and in the end my sleep is peppered with flashing terrors, malicious green eyes, and bursts of pain from whatever infliction my mind has granted me remembrance of.

"I know you can't be expected to drop it entirely," his eyes flit down to my stomach and his hand finds mine again, "but surly you might be able to ease off on the worry just a little bit, I was read that it isn't the healthiest thing."

I take a moment, dumbfounded. "You were reading about babies?"

"Oh- I, er. Yes. I was." Kasper trips through his words and turns his head down to stare at his feet, kicking and shuffling them about on the ground. "Your library, it's a spectacular place, and I was looking though the shelves and found a book about children, several of them actually."

"I have one; I've kept it in my room. It's the one my parents looked over when they were expecting me." I remember that I ought to look through names. It would not do me good to have an heir born without a name. "Still, why were you reading up on children? You haven't any, not that I am aware of?" I worry for a moment that Kasper has some hidden life somewhere and I have found myself terribly ignorant of it.

"NO." He corrects quickly. "No, I haven't. None at all, not a wife, or even a betrothed. It doesn't work like that where I'm from. We court and propose when we deem the time right. From what I understand of your sister and her fiancé our culture mirrors their story, without the perilous journeying and the madmen."

"Typically our love stories are much more mundane too; Anna tends to be the exception for most everything."

"We can only hope that her wedding proves simple and care free, what with the letter and whoever they send over."

"It will, should, if everything goes along with the current plan, happen before any other boats dock with the Southern flag." I reason. "But, nothing ever does seem to follow a plan."

"All too true." Kasper muddles about with his words and his hands for a moment. "I can't expect to keep you standing at your door frame any longer. You must need your sleep, what with the baby and all."

"That's just the problem. Sleeping is a challenge." I toy with the door handle, turning away from Kasper as I recall my latest night. It was better than my darkest days, yet a far cry from a simple peaceful dusk till dawn sleep I so desperately crave.

"I take it it must be the memories that keep you up, and the worry that everything is not properly over." Kasper cast a terribly insightful eye over my fear of sleep, yet does miss a more prominent and more terrifying aspect of my nights. While the memory of burns do taunt me, and I am left worrying about motherhood and my future to no end, it is, above all else, the recollection of my wedding night that sends proper quaking shivers throughout my body and leaves me echoing out silent screams and muted sobs.

So I nod. I agree with Kasper and pretend that I am far better that I am. It is foolish of me to worry and anguish of what has come and now quite gone. He would think me weak, know me to be weak. I should not be troubled by this. I beat Hans, he can never again go near me, and I do not understand why I still shudder at the memory of unkind fingers.

Kasper is saying my name muttering it as through water. He takes my hand, perhaps as means to re-alert me, but my mind panics. I pull away from him as if burnt by a thousand flicking flames. His touch scares me, stings me in to a panic or remembered touches, all far less pure that this now.

I stumble back and catch myself on the door knob, not realizing I have neared Kasper so closely as to put it behind me. Worry flashes across his face. "I'm sorry. I overstepped my boundaries. You are about to turn in for the night and a terribly worrying day, you can't want to be troubled with me."

"You're not a trouble." I try to convince Kasper that this is my fault, that I am the mangled broken mess of a human. He is fine, he is whole, and pure, and all too terribly kind. "It is easy to fall in to old memories, the kind that I really do need to cast off."

"Of Hans, you mean."

"And the things he did."

"You don't have to be ashamed of hurting." Kasper tries to explain, nearly reaching out for me but remembering himself, and my stumble. "You are just has human as the rest of us, I know you don't like it, that you wish you were _stronger, _but you must know that you are about as strong as any person has the right to be, any more and you would be a myth."

"I would gladly take the myth over being myself. Sometimes it feels as if being a myth is the only way to cope these days. I am sure my citizens are kept in line only by the stories of time and the memory of fierce winters. All sensible people can see that I have left the country in a terrible state of disarray, and who knows what may come now."

"You have to start accepting that the world comes paired with mistakes. It's so not about making them, or even how many may follow you. It is about what you do in-between. Elsa, you can't only view yourself at your weakest, you have to take in to account the moments you were spectacular, and there are so many of them."

I anchor myself with the doorknob, clutch it as I would the edge of a cliff. In this moment I am sure that it is the only reason I am still on my feet. I stammer and stutter, not sure what to say, and not wanting to say something wrong.

"You're rather spectacular yourself." I muster up the courage to pay Kasper a complement, seeing as he spends so much time trying to make me feel better about myself. I do not know what I will make of myself when he returns home.

He blushes.

With a bubbling sweetness building in my chest I depart. I tell Kasper that he has been wonderful company and then quickly dart in to my room. I seem to be fortifying myself within these walls all too frequently. It could be worse; I suppose there are many things that would be much worse.

As I undress, determined to find my way in to something less crushing than my current gown, I struggle to remind myself that there are things that could be much worse. I rush to imagine ways in which anything could be worse, need to convince myself that this dignitary is not that terrible, that my baby will not be forced away from me. I am terribly scared of my child; fear what my come when it is born, but fear even more that it might be taken from me so unwillingly, just as it was so unwilling forced on me.

* * *

**There is it. It is all to late right now, and I am all to tired to write up responses to reviews, so I'll tack those on to the end of the next chapter. Sorry. **

**Sorry if I have stopped making sense.**

**Very tired. **

**Also next chapter goes up on the 24th. **

**Very tired. **

**-Whovian123**

**ZZZZZZZZZzzzZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzz**


	71. Chapter 71

**Hello. So, this chapter is fun and all, but the next one is massive and very wedding-y, promise. Just wanted you to have a little heads up.**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

"Do you think I'll have to tell the kingdom?" I mutter the words I have wrestled with over the past day and a half. "Will I have to make an address to the people explaining that there is a man coming to steel their heir." I lied awake the past two nights mulling over that what is to come. My mind seems to have focused on the terrible details, refuses to look at the big awful things such as losing my baby.

Mother breaks from her silence, being brought back to the world and out of her monotonous silent walking. "I don't know, perhaps, but perhaps not. It isn't really all that important to them, seeing as nothing is going to happen. The man may come, but we will not let him anywhere near you, you know that." We circle about the gardens, taking in the fresh bright scent of the new budding flowers.

Anna has insisted that we not see the final draft of her wedding dress, but was nervous before seeing it, thus causing us to find ourselves with an hour of time to wait while Anna admirers herself and ensures everything is as it should be.

"I'll wait, if anything bad happens I'll tell them, but I really do not want to have to stumble through another address. I am not good at it, not like you." I envy the way my mother speaks; it was, of course, perfected over many years of ruling her country well. I have not yet had such an advantage.

"It will be best not to cause unjust worry. Arendelle is in need of peace and prosperity, more than anything in this time. The summer will be a fruitful one and it will set everyone back on their feet." I watch as she stops before a small shrub, admiring the orange flowers that lie dotted about it, wide small petaled things with marvelous frills. "I do hope these are still in bloom for the wedding. They will look marvelous, and orange flowers are tradition after all."

"I'd forgotten about that. I didn't do the wedding thing the proper way."

"You mustn't dwell on that." She looks over to my from the flowers, plucks several from the bush and smiles down at them. "You may have another chance yet. Everyone loves a beautiful queen."

"Even if that was the slightest bit true, I have a baby coming; it will take all of my time, seeing as I am going at it alone."

"What was the wedding like? The one with Hans?"

"Not a wedding, well I suppose it was, in a factual sense, but there was no love, of course there wasn't. He didn't ever even pretend. He was so blunt about it, about how little I mattered. The dress hurt and I had no say in it, he told the seamstress what he wanted, and he made me walk down the aisle alone, helpless, like a ship lost at sea…" I stammer through the memories, get caught up in the flimsy fabric of the gloves and the stale smell of the hall. "He told me that Papa was dead as we danced, whispered it in my ear with his voice as venom. I thought, hoped, that he was lying, bluffing to try and see me crumble. Then he brought out his head. He took me all the way through the castle in to a room just to see it, just to knock me lower and lower until he could take what he wanted without fear of danger, because by then I was too far gone to ever make a difference in anything he did. He could take everything and force what he wanted." I wring my hands together, trying to quell the taint of ice in my nails. "It was so helpless; I never want to feel like that again."

"You won't. Not ever, I promise." My mother assures me, her voice gentle and soothing. She takes the orange flowers and tucks them softly behind my ear and in to my hair. Smoothing everything in place she smiles at me. "Don't let it weigh on your spirits now, there is a time to be sad, and I time to be happy. Now is a time to be happy. I'm sure Anna is nearly done with that infernal gown of hers. Women didn't care nearly so much about wedding attire back when I was getting married."

I smile. My mother does talk of her wedding often, but it is always of our father and how marvelous he looked and how lucky she felt. I do hope, though I know it is rather a pipe dream for a soon to be single mother, that I might one day know what I happy wedding feels like.

We make our way around the garden several more times, enjoying the weather and the season just a little while longer, and then take our leave to find Anna and discover if she is pleased with her dress.

She is, it would seem. She gushes about it and tells us about every thread and stitch.

"I don't see why you won't let us see it." Mother pesters Anna. "We've already seen it, just about. Sure it wasn't all done and stitched up, but I was as dress as any other dress is."

Anna chuckles and shakes her head. "Obviously you do know what it's going to look like, but also I want what little you haven't seen to be a surprise."

Her reasoning is sound enough, brides demand things and they get them. In the weeks prior to weddings they seem to acquire ancient powers of persuasion. Perhaps it is that glow happy brides are said to have, they are said to glow with the undeniable happiness of what lies in a joyful future with their true love. I do hope that Anna has gotten it right. Of course she has. It is obvious to all creatures that crawl the earth that Kristoff and Anna have fates undeniably intertwined.

"It still feels as if there is so much to do." Anna says. "With less than a month left I can't shake the feeling that I have forgotten a terrible amount of something."

"All brides feel the same." Mother reassures.

"I expect all brides are also rather anxious about the honeymoon." Anna tries to smile, offers a weak grin covering what must undoubtedly be nerves.

"Oh don't worry about that." Our mother insists. "Women and men that love each other, they have a way of… coming together, maybe not the very first time, but finding a sort of rhythm isn't all that difficult."

"Mama." I insist; the subject matter seeming juxtaposed in my mother's voice. "There is a time and a place. I'm sure Anna understands the mechanics of it all, most do not need instruction."

"I do appreciate the assurance." Anna interjects. "Though that isn't all I'm worrying about. What if I forget my name, or Kristoff's, or I trip and make a fool of myself. You both know how I trip; I ruin most everything by tripping." She worries about, and recalls, most every important event in her life and how she managed to trip through it. There are quite a lot.

"Anna." I groan, in spite of everything, endeared with Anna's needless worry. "You might trip, but in the end who really does care? I know it won't ruin the wedding for Kristoff, and only you two matter. As long as you make it down the aisle in one piece you should consider the wedding a success."

"It might still rain."

"Anna." Our mother warns.

"I know I can't control the weather." Anna sighs.

"I could." I offer. "Well, I can't properly. But if it does rain I can give us a nice little patch of summer snow. It isn't quite as good as a bright sunrise, but it is a sight better than sodden rain." I have little faith in my magic, but I do know that if Anna's wedding were at stake I could freeze all an ocean.

"Elsa. That would be amazing." Anna stops her gentle pace, falling several steps behind us in the hallway. "You are still going to whip up some ice sculptures, aren't you? If the weather does prove to be nice they will look wonderful in the sunrise."

Mother and I stop with Anna, realize that we have found ourselves in a long abandoned room since overtaken by large boxes of miscellaneous storage. "When did all this get packed away here?" Mother mutters as we shift about the room and bat at cobwebs.

"After you disappeared, I expect." I pick up a small box, checking the weight of it. "I did as little ruling as a ruler could do. If anyone needed storage they used an empty room." I pry open a thickly dusted jewellery box and find it to be void of anything noteworthy, save several thin silver rings of little importance.

The next box I venter a look in proves more interesting. It is thick with letters and papers of all sorts. I spy at the date written in the top corner one of the letters: 1632. They must be letters from the family back two centuries ago. The slanted letters against the musky yellowed paper spell out small patches of history, both familial and vaster worldwide events.

"Elsa?" Anna calls over to me from across the room, an old-ish looking pen set in her hands. "Why do you have orange flowers in your hair?"

My hands find the flowers as I remember that I am all but wearing a crown of them. "Because they are in bloom."

Anna looks as if she might question me; flowers are not a typical accessory of my person, but the spring air has given everything about it freshness. Even the musky storage room feels exciting. Instead Anna settles with a smile and turns to a new box, determined to find a treasure worth celebrating.

As I pick through the papers I feel a slight fluttering in my stomach. Nothing related to feeling or nerves. It feels as a tumbling rumble and a slight pressure out against my skin. It feels as if my intestines have learned to dance. I lay a hand across my stomach and strain to feel movement against my fingers.

With an unstoppable grin I realize what it is. "Anna, mother, I think the baby's kicking, or at the very least moving about." Anna's head shoots up like an excitable puppy.

"Can I feel it?" She asks, excited.

"I can't imagine you can properly feel it from the outside, but you are welcome to try."

Anna bolts from her box, deciding that the promise of treasure has lost its appeal. She hesitates a moment with her hand hovering above my stomach, with my slight nod she closes the gap. After several moments she confesses. "I can't really feel anything. I think there might be something there. Well, obviously there is something there."

"Elsa will be able to feel it before us." Mother interjects. "When I had you, Anna, you kept me up all night for weeks and weeks before your father could feel it. I would pester him at all hours about how much moving you got up to; he didn't believe me until he could feel it for himself."

"I guess I can say goodbye to what sleep I've been getting." I long for the days in which I could sleep without fear of nightmares, or baby kicks. I suppose of all things to disrupt my sleep now, confidence in my babies wellness will be welcome as opposed to more terror and memories. It will serve well as a distraction to all thoughts of dignitaries and surrendering my child.

It leaves me smiling throughout the rest of the day. I feel the irregular sweeping and quaking as I eat dinner and talk with everyone that made it to the meal. It severs as my first connection with my baby, the first moment we have that is ours and no one else's. The baby may be half Hanses, but it is still human enough to kick.

* * *

**There we go. I promise next chapter will be better. And far more wedding-y. **

**I'll have a new chapter up for you all on the 1st. **

**-Whovian123**

**chinaluv: Thank you. **

**David-3105: Thank you. I never want it to end either. **

**Winter-s-Frozen-Medleys: Thank you. Don't worry, Elsa is going to fight for her baby. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. There was rather a short amount of suspense. **

**marshababy33: Thank you. Hans did see justice in the end. **

**Guest: Thank you. **

**HarmonyForever88****: Thank you. T****rust me, that King will get a right smacking at some point**

**NicPie: Thank you. There are rather alot of reviews, so I can't get in to specifics about anything, but thank you so much. **

**magsterva: Thank you so much. I don't know about the best, I just do my best. **


	72. Chapter 72

**Hello! The wedding chapter is finally here! **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

"Oh don't bother fussing over it." I insist as Anna works herself in to a state while trying to twirl her hair in what she deems _the perfect wedding look_. "You know Kristoff would love you even if you walked down the aisle wearing a burlap sack."

"I know, I do. I am utterly convinced of his love as he has proven it every day since we met. He is kind, he is perfect, he is gentle, and I love him so much. I need this blasted wedding to be perfect. And it is _so_ early." Anna tumbles through thoughts at a pace exclusive to herself. "I am so tired, why did I plan this so early. Elsa, why did you let me do this so early?"

"Because you think sunrises are beautiful, but you like sleeping in so much that you need a good reason to be up early enough to see one."

"It sounds so reasonable when you say it." Anna whines. Throwing down her hair and taking instead to the window, looking out at the sun cresting over the mountains. "Where is Mama? I don't want her to sleep through this. It is rather important."

"I've sent for her, Gerda said she was up terribly late last night, you can't blame her if she's trying to get just a little bit more sleep before something so exciting." I assure Anna. Come up behind her, brush in hand; ready to begin tackling her hair. It proves rather futile. I am not particularly good with hair, but I could always manage with Anna's. "How many times did you toss and turn last night?" I wonder aloud to Anna, uncovering a rat's nest of mess in hair. "This is the worst I've ever seen your hair."

"A lot." Anna blushes. "I haven't really been able to calm down enough for a good and proper sleep over the last few days. I'm very very excited."

"I assume you won't be getting all that much sleep tonight either." I cheek.

"Elsa. Was it not you that said there is a time and a place for such vulgarity."

"Indeed it was me, but this is the time, and the place."

Anna laughs and her cheeks light up with a rosy tint. "Well. It's not a particularly exotic honeymoon, just a weekend up in the mountains. We didn't really want to take a long trip, and not with that Southern Isles debacle no more than a week away." My hands clamp around Anna's hair and my brush halts. She fidgets and I come back to myself, once again attempting to tame her hair.

"You shouldn't worry about that, not today." I insist, holding Anna's hair in place while I wrap and intertwine a soft green ribbon all throughout it.

"Who shouldn't worry about what?" The door opens and our mother darts in, her eyes still blinking back sleep and her hand clasped around a small object.

"Nothing." Anna chirps up before I have a chance. "Elsa's right, today is meant to be utterly happy and I will not have foul thoughts running anything for anyone... What are you holding?"

Mother looks down at her hand, seeming to have forgotten about the object and is now surprise to see it sitting in her palm. It is a bright hair pin, jewel and silver that come together in Arendelles crest. She rubs her thumb over it, an absent minded movement that forces the last bits of shine out of the jems. "It's a family heirloom of sorts, just for weddings in the royal family. My mother gave it to me when I married your father, and her mother to her. I always dreamed of the day I would get to show it to you girls. One day we might even have a chance to see it in Elsa's hair."

"It's gorgeous." Anna gushes, rushing over to hug our mother and inspect the beautiful jewelled hair piece. I watch with bated breath as her hair, my handiwork, is put to the test. It swings a bit, yet holds marvellously. I allow myself a slight moment of pride. "Elsa, look at it, it's perfect."

"And it will look perfect in your hair." I offer. She gives it to me and I find a place for it, keep it straight and then take a step back, rather pleased with the overall look that I have managed to pile atop Anna's head.

"There you are." I announce. "Hair is done; you just need the dress now, unless you want to go out and down the aisle in your night gown." I gesture to Anna's current state of attire, lilac night gown and bare feet.

"Of course." Anna twirls about and over to her closet, where she has assured me her completed wedding dress sits upon a dress form. "I'll put it on in here while you two wait outside. I will not allow any previews before I am entirely put together." Anna grabs my wrist and drags me across the room to the door, shoving our mother and me outside.

We laugh at Anna's eagerness, feeding in to the excitement in the air. Today has the promise to be a very good day. I wonder, for a moment, how Kristoff is getting on. I sent Kia to assist him with his formal wear earlier in the morning, though I doubt he has truly woken up yet. More so than Kristoff, Sven weighs on my mind. Kristoff was absolutely set on having Sven stand in place as the _best reindeer. _I shudder at the thought of fitting formal wear over antlers.

After several moments of _oofhhf's, _and muted thuds sounding behind the door, Anna addresses us. "It seems I have forgotten just how little arm movement I have in this, and just how much reaching is involved in the lacing of a corset." Quite a few stuttering thudding steps echo in to the hallway and then Anna speaks again. "I have to admit defeat; could one of you come in here, eyes _closed_, and help me lace it up properly?"

"Don't worry about it dear, I'll do it." Our mother steps up toward the door, arm outstretched.

"Oh, um, I think you better not, can you do it with… just one arm?" Anna stammers through the words, afraid of slipping up and saying something far more insulting that is required.

Mother backs down, takes several steps backwards and lets her face fall in to a blank expression. "Yes, of course. I do forget sometimes, but there is no possible way I could do that. Elsa, you better help Anna." I nod and step in to the room, eyes closed. Guilt over my mother's inability to take care of her daughter on her wedding day burns in my chest. I feel an imposition, stepping in where I ought not to be. I want my mother to feel useful, as if there is nothing she cannot do.

"I feel terrible." Anna whispers, not more than a breath with slight sound, nothing that could ever be heard through a door. "I don't like that she can't do things. I want her to be able to do everything she wants to, or at least feel that she can fit in." She pauses for a beat, seeming to try and find the courage to say something rather difficult. "I was talking to some trades workers in the village; they looked over a catalogue with me. It was all about prosthetic limbs."

"Oh Anna." I sigh, keeping my eyes firmly shut. "Do you really think Mama would be happy with a prosthetic arm? I know we have gone a long way past wooden sticks and peg legs, but do you really think?" I worry that suggesting such a thing might come as a terrible insult to our mother.

Anna waits a moment before responding. "I know now is not the time to bring it up, but even just for aesthetic reasons, if the hand is convincing enough, I know we have craftsmen good enough to make it look good, with a coat or a cloak on, she could almost forget about it, for a while."

I struggle a moment, my fingers tangled in the lacing across Anna's back. "And then be reminded of it all over again when she takes it off to go to bed." My fingers find freedom once more and I finish the top of the ribbons with a large drooping bow, something I hope Anna will appreciate. "Regardless of all of that, today is not the day for it. We can bring it up at a later date, maybe over dinner, or something that will keep her comfortable with the idea." I sigh and take several steps backwards, counting what lucky stars have not abandoned me that I don't trip over anything. "Now, am a finally allowed to look, or are you going to keep me waiting as long as Kristoff."

"Let Mama in first." Anna insists. I stumble wildly toward the door and realize that it is not a good idea, my lucky stars seem to have truly abandoned me now as I trip and stumble, face first, on to Anna's bed. "Oh, Elsa. Are you ok?" I nod. "Good, good… Just stay there, I'll lead mother in and set you upright."

I feel my way back to my feet, eyes still firmly shut, and listen for Anna. She brings in our mother and sets us side by side. I can feel her shoulder pressed up against mine. "Ok, you can both look now." Anna announces, a hint of worry tainting her words.

Anna waits before us, her arms outstretched and her face in a bashful grin. Her dress is a brilliant white, the skirt is wispy and delicate, pooling around her feet in a fluid bundle. Her bodice is covered in a swirling array of flowers made of both stitching and small sparkling jewels.

"Oh, Anna." Mother brings her hand to her mouth and lets out a mangled sob tangled with a smile. "Anna. Anna, you look so beautiful. Oh Kristoff is going to be left stunned on that alter. Oh, your father would have been so filled with pride to see you a blushing bride."

Anna smiles and we return it. "You do look absolutely perfect." I assure Anna. "But we really must be getting you down to the aisle, have you married off before the weather has a chance to turn." I remark, looking out the window and peering at some rather suspicious clouds hovering behind the mountains. There should be little worry of rain, but the possibility is there.

We take careful care to keep Anna out of the mud and away from precarious steps as we bring her out to the stretch of green atop a hill overlooking the fjords. It was deemed by Anna to be the ideal spot for romantic weddings. I bid her good luck and goodbye before taking my leave to claim my place at the altar, being as I am to officiate.

I offer Kristoff a smile and see that Sven has found himself stuffed in to something akin to a tuxedo for reindeer. Kristoff himself looks terribly uncomfortable and out off place in his own tuxedo. I cannot imagine he has ever had reason to dress up properly before, and would much rather get married in his working clothes. I am sure that Anna would not mind, she never did care what Kristoff wore, only that he was with her.

The rest of the guests file in; the citizens having roused themselves before sunrise to attend the event. I greet all sorts, stepping down to help find seats and to keep everyone from getting restless. I expect Anna has found something to panic over and is now being soothed by our mother.

Eventually I see her crest the hill. She makes her way across the grass, clutching the arm of our mother. In the absence of our father our mother has decided that Anna needs to be walked down the aisle and that she shall be the one to do so. They both smile, Anna glowing more than any human ever has. Kristoff appears as if he might fly, or something akin to such a wondrous and magical nature. I have never been privy to the face a man wears when everything he has ever wanted it walking toward him in a bright white dress with the promise of forever written on her lips, but I am sure any man in that situation could not possibly look as happy and in love as Kristoff does.

The ceremony passes with little problem, Kristoff and Anna both stuttering their way through the vows, dumbstruck smiles strung across their faces the whole while. I declare them to be man and wife, they will have to sign marriage certificates before the day is over to ensure everything is proper and official, but from the way they take each other in to their arms for that first kiss as man and wife, one can tell they have not a single care in the entire world. They are blindly happy with one another, absolutely content, and marvelously ecstatic.

The chairs are abandoned and the congregation moves to a reception facility one small hill over. I expect the world will be seeing very little of the Arendelle citizens today, they have all occupied themselves with the new Prince Kristoff and the lunch that has been prepared. I stumble through the crowed an excited fool. It's gone perfect, seamless. Anna is happy enough for all the world right now and no one caused a speck of trouble. I had not dared hope for such wild success, even the weather maintained perfection, the clouds having blown away and the sun a startling beacon of light and newness.

Music washes over the field, one of the local bands seems to have planned a musical surprise for Anna and Kristoff, a wedding gift. Groups of people break out in to traditional dance and take over a large patch of space, Kristoff and Anna at their center, locked in each other's arms and quite possibly oblivious to the music. I steer well clear, being as I do not dance.

"I see the fishermen are making the most of the day off work." Someone suggests from behind me. "Then again, I think all the men are. No one can fault a man for wanting to dance with a pretty lady." I turn around to find Kasper with a drink in hand. His jaw void of any beard. It come as rather a shock, I had grown so used to it it hardly seems real for him to be without it.

"They work long hours, all the men do, quite a few women as well." I answer, closing the space between us, leaving behind the music and buzzing chatter of the crowd. "I don't expect the celebration will truly end until late next week, but I do owe them all that, what with my terrible mismanagement. A party will do everyone well."

"I see that you are great fun at parties." Kasper laughs, setting his wine down at a table. "Though I do suspect that this has gone a sight better than that coronation I regret having missed."

"This has gone better yes. No one is in tears, save those of blinding love and happiness."

A man, a shop keeper of sorts, taps my shoulder and asks me if I might accept his offer of a dance. I decline with as much grace as I can muster, I really am a terrible dancer.

Kristoff and Anna abandon the festivities a little past noon, citing the honeymoon and the need to deal with the official documents. I expect they just want a moment away from the relentless gifts and congratulations. The couple never has warmed to the attention they receive. Kristoff would be happy to forever live in the woods alone with Anna, though Anna might demand at least a modest cottage.

My mother and I maintain the festivities, calling upon a dinner to be brought out. Once every one has eaten, I having managed but a fleeting bite of pork, and many returned to their houses and lives, do I realize how terribly late it is.

There is still music to be heard, and a light crowd of straggling party guests. Mother has long since retreated to the castle, her exhaustion well displayed across her features. I wish her luck in a peaceful sleep, something she has clearly not gotten in the last few nights, and promise to maintain the party and keep the peace should anything happen.

Kasper creeps up again.

"I meant to ask you," I break the spell of the musicians, their notes having turned soft and soothing, "why did you shave?"

"I thought I might change it up." Kasper grins, running him fingers down his cheek and across his jaw. "Would you care to dance?" He offers me a hopeful hand and a foolhardy grin.

"Terribly sorry, but I do not dance, no exceptions at all."

"It's a wedding, surly just this one."

"You saw me turn down a shopkeeper earlier today, he made the very same offer."

"Please, it is a slow dance, you can't possibly mess that up. It's just rather tame swaying and mild stepping." Kasper looks so hopeful, and the day has been so intoxicating, that I concede.

"I hope you know, I haven't even thought about dancing since I was a little girl. I'm going to end up atop your toes."

"I don't mind, really." Kasper insists. I keep him at arm's length as we fall in to place among the remaining dancers and begin the slow twirls and long sways of a rather mundane dance. "I'm just honored that I get the first dance of the evening."

"Oh it will most certainly be the last as well." I assure, keeping careful watch of my feet, desperate to keep my toes off Kasper's. "No yelping when I trip you, I have to pretend to be elegant among my people."

"You are elegant." Kasper assures. I look up at him; spy a slight red line across his chin, and careful focus in his eyes. "Did you cut yourself? Have you ever properly shaved before?" I ask, not believing Kasper to feel at home in a smooth jaw.

"Not in a long time, I did grow rather fond of the beard." He takes his hand from my waist for a moment, toying at his chin with his fingers and pushing at the cut. "It well become easier, I hope."

"Care to tell me the real reason you shaved," Kasper opens his mouth to insist upon his thin story, "you don't seem the man to change things up for the sake of it, especially when you are so fond of it."

"Will you laugh at me?" I tell Kasper that I won't. "Promise?" I promise him. "Oh all right." Kasper takes a large breath and forces it all out at once. "I heard several women gossiping about how noble women prefer smooth faced men."

"You sliced up your face to attract women?"

"_A_ woman."

"So that's why we still get to play host to you. You're after one of the ladies of court?" I focus on my footwork, distracted by the hands at my waist. "I except whoever she it is tripping over your new look, though I prefer you with the beard."

"You mean I look better without the cuts and scars." He raises a slight eyebrow and we turn around in a lyrical circle. I readjust my arms, tucked up around Kaspers neck, and find myself closer to him, far closer than I intended.

"I don't like seeing anyone hurt." I answer. My toe catches on the ground and I stumble, my face plowing in to Kaspers chest and my arms flailing wildly for a moment before Kaspers hands catch my waist and keep me from making a spectacular fool of myself in the mud.

"Careful," he warns, his arms wrapping tight around me, keeping my upright and safe from further peril, "I don't want to have to pick you of the ground. I would if I had to, would carry you all the way back to the castle and then in to you bed room, bandage whatever sprains or cuts there may be."

"Just… Keep me upright for now." I find myself breathing in the thick scent of Kaspers chest and keeping close to it, not trusting my own feet anymore. "I don't want to appear a fool before my people."

"You need not worry about that. They have all but left." He tilts his head to display the rather barren hill and the rising moon. The music has stopped, I have no inkling to how long it has been since it was playing, but I know it is gone now.

I step away from Kasper, now trusting my feet once again; they stand much steadier away from the worry of music and warmth. "I must follow their lead; it was a terribly early evening getting Anna ready and her hair all done."

"I'll walk you back; it's a dangerous world for women when the sun goes down." Kasper offers his arm to me, his face and tone optimistic. His expression makes a rapid change as he watches me stumble, as if struck across the face, and flinch at his words.

"I know." I do not mean to sound angry, I want to be better than such an impulsive and animal reaction, but I know of what Kasper warns and I am no stranger to it or its implications.

"Oh, Oh, Elsa." Kasper steps toward me, eyes sympathetic and arm outstretched. "I didn't think. I'm sorry. I would never try to remind you. Please, forgive me." He stops walking as he sees me step back again. "I- you-." He takes a deep breath. "Pardon my ignorance, I'll walk back myself, you're safe, you have your magic, no one could touch you."

"No." I blurt out before Kasper can properly turn around and make for the castle alone. "It's a difficult subject, I hate to think of it, but I have to sometimes. You didn't think and didn't mean anything by it." I take several steps toward him; decide that today has been too good a day to let the urge to run ruin anything.

"Are you sure?" He asks, desperate to see my forgiveness.

Not confident that my voice will come out quite right and in a completely appropriate manner after the day, and subsequent evening dance, I take his arm in answer. We smile, both decided together to ignore all that has just been said and credit it all to slips of the tongue and hours of tiring time wasting.

* * *

**Please let me know what you thought. **

**I'll have the next chapter up on the 6th. **

**-Whovian123 **

**HarmonyForever88: Happy Birthday (I secretly planned this entire fic just to give you a special birthday chapter.)May there be cake aplenty in your day, and many a fanfic update to read. **

**Winters Frozen Medleys: Thank you. Yes, I have decided whether or not the baby will inherit Elsa's powers, (no hints though, sorry). I also have the name and everything else worked out, so suggestions are welcome, but will be promptly ignored. **

**David-3105: Thank you. War? Fight? Something is going to have to happen... Something big. **

**NicPie: Thank you. The Southern Isle really is full of imbeciles (I would know, I'm writing up scenes with more of the royal family as you read this... probably.) Also, I hope you never have to find out what you would do if your daughter came to you with terrible stories like that. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Let's hope all the jittering and hype payed off. **


	73. Chapter 73

**Hello. Shameful chapter up ahead, shamefully sappy at moments... **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

"I take it you had a good time then?" I tease Anna while she talks endlessly of northern lights, and the rustic charm of mountain camping. Though from what I gather it was not true camping. Kristoff had secured the week long rent of a quaint cabin deep in the forest and atop the world, and Anna was aching for the return of such beautiful seclusion.

"I did." Anna assures. "I really did, it was marvelous. Kristoff is such an amazing husband. I love saying that. Husband. _Husband_. I have a _husband_. I am a _wife_, a wife with a marvellous husband." She twirls about in the hall, her hair fanning out around her head and her laugh bubbling forth, fluid in the air.

"Hurry along to lunch then, Mama hasn't yet heard you gush." I shoo Anna ahead of me, encouraging her, just this once, to run through the halls and burst in to the dining hall. It will do everyone good to hear Anna so plainly excited, everyone being Kasper and my mother. With the month drawing to a close the threat of the Southern Isles is fast threatening to take away the week of happiness and wedding celebration that has graced the land.

I catch up to Anna, now seated at the dining table, and see that she has commanded the attention of our mother, drawing her away from all thought of lunch. I settle in to my own meal, delighting in the thick smell of meat and bread, as someone sits down next to me.

"Kasper." I smile his name, not turning to look at him, simply knowing his weight and his walk. "How was your morning?"

"Dull." He laments, tucking in to his own meal. "I rather missed catching any sight of you."

"Surely you have things that need doing, tasks that get put off and letters that need writing. I know you aren't in your country, but there must be ways to keep busy." I remind Kasper that falling behind on work and requirements is not something to take lightly, seeing as I have found myself in that situation many a time before, perhaps too often.

"Well. I actually got a letter last night. It was an interesting one." He muddles his words about and busies himself with his lunch, determined to delay whatever news he might have.

"It can't be worse that what I got last month." I chide, hiding my blatant fear behind a weak laugh. It has been the promised month and I do doubt I will be allowed the grace of peace for much longer, if any longer at all. This very night could see the arrival of the dignitary, or one a week from now, all I know is that I have not yet met a Southern Isles man that backed down on his word.

I drum my fingers in anxiety.

"That was rather bad. But I've just received a large and… aggressive… letter from my parents. They are not particularly pleased that I have been gone so much longer than was planned, and without much, or rather nothing at all, in the way of true warning." He pauses for a moment, placing his fork on the table, and setting his hands together nervously on his lap. "I am to return to my country at the earliest opportunity."

"You… What?" I stammer, my hands coming to a deadly still grasping lump on my lap, empty in an extreme way, a blank and desperate way. "You're going back home, away from here?" I panic, for a moment, fear and feel that I am falling through empty space. Then I remember that Kasper is Kasper, just a man from a country far off, a place I had never heard of a year ago, a man that was never going to stay more than several months.

"I can't imagine I will be forced to stay more than a month, perhaps a week or so." Kasper backtracks, startled at my reaction. "I'll come right back here, I promise, I don't want to be away from here, from you, while there is a dangerous dignitary about, or at all really." He turns away from his food, forgetting it. "Don't feel unsafe, not for a moment. I will be fighting to get back here every moment that I am away. I promise no harm will come to you, not ever."

"Kasper. Don't. Don't say any of that." I try to make sense of Kasper, ensure that I do in fact remember that he is a dignitary, a friend, a prince that I have just only become acquainted with. "It's your family, your people. You are their prince, they want you back. It's been rude of me to keep you here for so long." I turn back to my lunch, force it down and refuse to meet Kaspers gaze. I can feel it coming back to me, again and again while we eat.

I focus instead on Anna and her wild stories of the last week. She is going on about the trio of bears she saw one day, a mother and two cubs it would seem. I smile and nod when she looks at me, when it is required. Mother does too. It is thrilling to see Anna so unashamedly happy. She is infectious in her spirits.

"Where ever did that ice harvester get off too?" Mother chirps up before Anna can get properly started with another tall tale of Arendelles wildlife. "I saw Kristoff rushing through the hall, but barely got a word of greeting out before he had turned the corner."

"He's behind on a terrible amount of ice preparations. He says this summer is going to be the hottest in a long time. Says that he knows when they are going to be hot, it's an ice harvester trick. He needs to gather up a team of men to harvest, and must organize them all. He isn't the best at planning and organizing, but this is his first proper summer in charge of keeping everything cool and iced. He doesn't want to disappoint anyone." Anna explains. "He is very eager to please."

I cannot imagine Arendelle being left truly to the whims of a summer; even should Kristoff forget everything about ice and that we will need much of it I could simply will it to existence in large crystal piles at every street corner. I keep myself contained though; keep ice coming from the mountains if only for job security for my sister's husband. He does need to look after her. I will not see to his unemployment.

"Well, do tell him to keep his pace down." Mother chides. "I rather enjoy having a son and law. We wouldn't want him to lose track of where he was going and run in to the fjords." We smile and laugh; perhaps it is a little forced. Perhaps I force myself to ignore Kaspers worried glances, glances that I can feel flitting across the side of my face. My jaw pulls tight and I see to finishing my lunch, rather eager to be done with it.

I make my excuses, some flimsy reason of paper work and tiredness, and leave the dining hall. I can hear Kasper scrambling to follow me; his own excuses trailing behind mine, falling flat and vainly trying to cover that which is rather obvious, whatever it may be.

The hall feels to long, and my feet to heavy. It is exhausting, my mind a muddled mess. "Elsa." Kasper stumbles along behind me, as if strung by an invisible string, bound to something unstoppable. "Elsa. Are you alright? Please don't think I want to leave. I don't. I love it here…"

"I'm fine." I gasp at the words, suddenly wanting to cry, but not having the faintest clue as to why I am so despairingly sad. "I'm not sad, I shouldn't be so sad." I bat at my eyes, fighting to keep my tears from being noticed. I blame it on the baby, it has to be the baby. My emotions are a mess because of it. "I'm just tired, and drained, all the time. My body is a mess and my mind can't keep together, and I don't even think this is about you, but you set it off, so it might be. But don't feel sad, or bad. Please don't feel bad. I don't want you to feel bad, not ever."

"Well too bad." Kasper declares, having now caught up with me, his chest heaving and his eyes alight with something, something that scares me and sends my heart hammering and my stomach falling through to my knees. "Because I don't want you to ever feel bad either. You're important, to everyone in this country, and to me. It's thoughtless and rash for me to care so much that you are never sad, but I will not be stopped by logic, not over something that feels as basic as breathing-."

"Stop." I cut Kaspers words short, suddenly terribly scared of anything else being uttered. I grasp his arms and on impulse fling myself in to his chest. "Don't you dare speak, no talking, not a single word more."

He nods.

I breathe.

Nothing in my life has ever made any sense. I do doubt I will be gifted with a simple patch just now. I suppose it is better than it has been. My life has been truly terrible, but it is not now. Right now, in these very terribly sane moments I am wrapped in safe arms and content with the warmth pressed to my body.

If I do not talk then nothing will happen. If I keep everything hurdling around my head where it is then I can ignore the fact that the warmth will leave me, traversing aware to where he came, and time will move forward. The dignitary will come and I will have little choice but to face it. I can only hope my mind as settled by then, that my sense has returned to me and I can survive without needless tears.

I focus on the hands against my back; let my mind zero in on them, their fingers and the way they cling to my skin, not digging, but clinging, desperately clinging. I sigh and hate myself for it. I hate that I need this, that I need to feel this warmth now. I do not like needing things, it is altogether too vulnerable.

"I care about you, rather a lot." Kasper whispers against my hair. I cringe at the words, worried about what they mean, and what I will have to do about them. "You do mean a lot to me, and I do not want to ever find myself all that far from your company." He breathes a deep shaking breath and I notice that the hands on my back are trembling. I pull him tighter. "I don't want you to feel an obligation to care about me, or to wish me well on my journey home, but I need to know, that you know, that I care."

I make no sign; show no reaction to his words. I let them fall, let everything fall, away; my words, his words, my sense of dignity and sanity, all that I know to be reasonable and important. It all leaves me. Everything that I have ever had in my world becomes his arms, his fingers, and his heart beat pressed close to my face, pounding underneath his skin and my closed eyes.

It is shameful, terribly shameful, to find myself pressed so close to a man in the middle of a hallway. It would be scandalous even if Kasper were my husband, which he most certainly is not; but I do find myself having given up caring. What is proper and what feels right have never been within the same realm of reason.

"I won't leave for several days yet, and I will be back as soon as you will have me."

"I will have you whenever and forever." I surprise myself, scared now of what I might say if I keep talking. I clamp my mouth shut.

"It's good to hear that." Kasper sighs. "I don't expect anything of course. I don't expect anything at all. I just need you to know that I care. I don't need a commitment of any sort, or a name that comes with the string of fear. I know that you don't need that right now, and if you don't need it then I don't need it." He rambles on and I cannot hold back a slight smile.

I understand what he means of course; often do even when I shouldn't be able to.

Then I remember myself. I pull back from Kasper, keeping my arms tight to my sides and my eyes trained on the ground. Thick warmth rises up and settles in my cheeks and lodges in my throat, it burns. "I have to go." I mutter. "I have paperwork, and treaties, and letters, there is stuff here for me. Important things that I have to do, never have the time to do…"

I whip around and down the hall, listening to the clicking of my shoes on the polished wood floors. Working comes first, my country comes first. Kasper is not important. First and foremost I will always be a Queen, and right now there is much that needs to be dome.

* * *

**Let me now what you thought.**

**I will have a new chapter out on the 11th, which happens to me the one year anniversary of this story... Wow...**

**-Whovian123**

**chinaluv: Thank you. **

**NicPie: Thank you. Idun is definitely in a terribly strange place, but her daughters are always willing to give her a hand... **

**Winter-Rose-of-Arendelle: Thank you. Soon enough Elsa will have the baby and my master plan will be revealed. **

**David-3105: Thank you. Glad you like Kasper, because this chapter was very Kasper heavy. Also, happy birthday too your brother and happy belated birthday too you, I hope you consider this chapter a belated gift. **

**Goldie-Roth: Thank you. I grinned like an idiot while I wrote it. **

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. Glad to hear your birthday was a good one. If you can find someone willing to do fanart let me know, I would love to see that. Sadly I am incapable of drawing with any skill.**

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Hopefully there were enough sweet moments in this chapter to outweigh Elsa's rather scattered mind and sorrow. **


	74. Chapter 74

**Hello my wonderful readers. Today marks the one year anniversary of A New Kind of Trapped. Holy Cow. **

**Thank you everyone, if you leave reviews, if you don't, if you screamed at your computer screen that what I am doing is all wrong, just thank you for being there and giving me the audience I craved. You are all the best, especially you, yes, you. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

The week passes all too quickly. Kasper pushes back all thoughts of travel, insisting that he wants to wait out the Southern Isles'es dignitary, to see who is sent and to content himself with my safety. Anna shifts from joy at her new married life, to cold determination regarding our anticipated visitor.

I try to ignore it all.

My time is wasted on useless walks about the garden, to seek some enjoyment from the firmly arrived spring, and endless talks with my family, and Kasper. Not that I deal with them all at once. Anna finds me during the day, keeps me delighted with stories of Kristoff and Sven, and strange eccentricities of life that she has happened upon through her day. Mother finds me in the mornings, being an early riser, and smiles and me and keeps me sane with her simple questions and motherly musings. Kasper finds me while I walk, creeps up in the in-between moments while I am strolling. He likes the gardens, perhaps sees me as an excuse to partake in the viewing of them, he jokes that it is the other way around.

I manage to enjoy my time, find myself toiling away at piles of work and enjoying the feeling of a job well done and tired feet and fingers when I settle in to bed. Even my nights are easier, lighter, and sounder.

So when the boat finally comes in to view I curse rather unexpectedly. I stumble, apologizing to Kai, and then to my stomach, not wanting my baby to pick up on foul language, not from me at least. The message was not unexpected. I knew it would be coming soon, but rather tried to keep my easy stretch of life going on for as long as I could.

I tell Anna first, find her easily in the dining hall eating her customary late breakfast with her eyes still hooded with clinging sleep. She keeps me calm, though that steel and anger that I know she is capable of creeps in to her voice and features. Mother comes next, and as we leave the castle, passing by a particularly splendid block of flowering hedges, Kasper materializes, his face spread thick with a smile and his eyes twinkling. He soon drops these features in favor of heavy set angry brows and lips pressed thin.

Our walk down is slow, deceptively casual. I revel in these last moments, these moments before my life gets thrown in to a hurricane, again…

It docks just as boats do. The men aboard it cast their ropes out to the land, like a spider weaving its web, and lash themselves to my country. I shiver. They settle in and I ball my fists, unintentionally. I worry that a chill might set it. Is Anna shivering? Are her teeth chattering? I breathe and keep my chest light, stop the winter and keep my mind as focused as it has ever been.

Men step off, the unimportant sailor type with long sun-bleached hair and weathered skin. Then there are guards, four tall men, built as walls, with the Southern Isles crest plastered across the hulking bulk that is their chests. Behind the guards is a man, a man that I know must be simply man, flesh, blood, sinew, and other things that make up people, but I do not remember that part, do not make it to that part.

All I can see are his eyes.

Green, a green I know. He has Hanses eyes. It must be his brother; it has to be one of his brothers. They are too similar. Their shoulders and their walk match up seamlessly. His voice, which flows forth like warm spoiled milk, carries the slight accent of the Southern Isles and an airy note of indifference that I pray will be a good thing.

"Your majesty." He steps away from his line of guards and offers me his hand. "I am Viktor, tenth in line for the throne of the Southern Isles." The tenth prince, perhaps he will prove more manageable than the thirteenth. I do not shake his hand.

"I do hope you pardon my unwillingness to greet you on kind terms. Your purpose here is rather adverse to mine." I keep my teeth gritted tight together to keep from shouting, but manage the words all the same. Viktor retracts his hand.

"Of course." He nods, his lips curling in to a frightening smile. "This is a rather nasty business, but of course you will understand our need for, _compensation_, regarding my little brother's death." His posture works itself in the straightest display of arrogance I have ever seen.

"I do not understand. Not in the slightest. But I am a reasonable Queen, and while your intent is frightful, I will not harm you until you try something foul." I promise the man that he will not get what he wants, he is permitted to stay, and try, but he will not see fruit in his endeavour.

He nods. He is taller, I realize, taller than Hans. His hair is a more russet colour too and long past his ears, brushing across his shoulder when he looks behind at his boat. He calls out orders and climbs back on to the boat. "I have several letters to write before I send this beauty back home." He announces, pointing to his ship. "My parents rather wished to know when I arrived and if I was going to be safe. I'll tell them I will be."

I stand staring.

This might be easy.

This man might be impressionable, he does not seem exceptionally so, but his family has a history of seeming what they are not. I will not have to worry. I will be able to go about my business until I can convince this man that his mission is without point and will come to naught. I can send him home with tales of my defiance, and his parents, the King and Queen of the Southern Isles, will speak of mercy toward me and my child. There will be a proper life for me to lead and it shall be lead with my baby in _my_ arms, not someone else's far across the ocean.

There is an urge building in the pit of my stomach, it bubbles up and around to my chest. I hardly recognize it. It is foreign to me and bazar. I cannot fight it, would not dare. I should be glad of it, glad when my mouth breaks open and in to the air tumbles a delighted laugh.

Anna stares at me, dumbfounded. My mother watches me as a strange entity that makes little to no sense at all. Kristoff and Kasper exchange looks that I pay no mind to. I am happy, and relieved. I will laugh and I will delight in my lack of worry. It is invigorating.

It does not stop. It keeps coming. Months' worth of mirth all rushing to my mind in this moment doubled over on the dock. "Elsa." Anna whispers. "Elsa are you alright?"

"Yes." I gasp around the giggles. "I'm fine. Perfect. I am very very good and fine. I have nothing to worry about, not a thing. I'm safe." The last sentence, in its two worded entirely, is the most spectacular sentence of the day. I did know, in my mind somewhere, that I have been safe since Hans died, and perhaps even a while before that, but now I can say it. There is a large difference between being able to think something sometimes, and forcing the idea in to the world with sounds. The second is far more satisfying.

"I suppose I cannot fault you on this." Mother offers. "It could certainly have gone much worse."

"But it still could have been better." Anna insists.

"Everything could be better Anna. There is no sense in waiting for the best. I shall take the better and run with it for as long as one might let me." I resolve in my new philosophy, determined to let my mirth find new residence in my limbs and my heart for as long as it is inclined to stay. "Let's go back to the castle. This man doesn't matter, I'm sure he'll be at our door with his bags in tow once his letters are done, we needn't wait for him."

I abandon the dock, leaving behind my bewildered family and confused guards. "Oh fine." I shout back. "Leave a set of men to escort him up, take what precautions you deem worthy." I concede that my fit of joy will soon wear off and if I do not leave someone to tend to this man and keep him from causing harm I will find myself panicking most extremely in the wake of my laughter.

Back at the castle I find that I can control myself once again, or that the urge to laugh has faded away with my fit of lunacy. For now all it as it should be, to a degree. I am happy, my family is safe, and though a man might be strolling about my dock with the intent of stealing my baby from me I know myself to be stronger than him. I am going to win, have won already, need not worry about the Southern Isles and what they want to do, for their wants will come to naught as I keep my ground as fiercely as my winter will allow me.

* * *

"I don't quite know what I expected." Anna remarked at dinner later in the day. "But I know that that was not it… Viktor, he looks like Hans, but he also doesn't. Clearly the genes in that family are strong. I think I pictured some hulking brute, a behemoth man that shook the earth when he walked."

"We should not let ourselves grow over confident." Our mother warns, taking her fork and spearing a small roasted potato with far more zeal than is strictly necessary. "We know nothing of this man, save that he is here to take Arendelles future ruler, like a thief in the night that does not have the good grace to sneak about. He will be up here, striding though our castle, sauntering about and demanding things be done for him, no repentance for what his brother dared to do." Her fury mounts as she attacks her final potato, breaking though the cooked lump and shattering the plate beneath it.

For a beat no one moves.

Kristoff eventually tries to break the silence and coughs uncomfortably, but it is to no avail. Kasper shifts awkwardly, I can feel his shoulder against mine. I stammer for a moment, shocked by the silent rage that has wormed its way in to my mother's kind heart. I feel that I might understand her a little bit better in this moment than I have in any of the others before.

In the end it is Anna that saves us. "Don't worry about it. I drop enough bowls and cups to know that there is a wealth of extra everything. Did you know we have eight thousand salad plates?" She chatters quickly and keeps her voice as light and cheery as she is capable. I send her a wave of thanks, wishing it was easier to tell everyone how wonderful they have been at managing everyone else's trauma and lapses in sanity.

Our mother snaps out from her listless thoughts of anger and revenge. "Wait… What? Eight thousand? Anna, sweetie, are you sure? That's a lot of plates. I can't imagine every actually using that many."

"Trust me, I counted." Anna affirms. "There were a lot of empty days for a while; counting to eight thousand was no great feat."

I twiddle my thumbs and chew on my lip, willing the hours to slide by just a little bit faster. The sooner I am out of this dining hall the faster I can abandon the pretense of calm, for a soon as my fit of laughter ended I felt the familiar grip of terror tightening on my throat. Now each breath I draw with shattered lungs is pulled past a thick lump.

No one fights Anna's claim and the rest of dinner is wasted with small talk and a silence more comfortable than that of the past months. Afterward Anna and Kristoff retire claiming exhaustion though the vibrant spark in their eyes suggests something a little different. I ignore it and remember that they are married and able to do whatever they wish with their time alone.

I try to make conversation with Kasper, determined to not run from the dining hall the moment my plate is cleared, as has become my ritual. Before thinking I blurt out the one thing on my mind, the one thing that has occupied the very forefront of all my thought the past few days, save the moments I remembered that a foul dignitary was making his way for my home. "When are you leaving?"

Mother tilts her head slightly, pretending to ignore us and feigning great enjoyment of the lace trimmed tablecloth. I send her a silent 'thank you'.

"I was thinking, or rather, planning on several weeks from now, months if I could manage it. I don't want to leave you alone with this creep stalking about your country. I let Hans do far too much to you already. I won't have his brother opening up old wounds." Kasper divulges a curious sense of guilt.

"_I_ let Hans do too much to me." I implore. "You had no part in it. I was not, and am not, your burden to protect." Through I realize now that I welcome Kasper's protection, feel a needy craving for his sense of safety building behind my shoulder blades.

"You know I would let you be. I want you to be my burden." Kasper confesses. "I know I've said it before, and overstepped myself thousands of times, but it's true."

I bite my tongue and take a rather large breath that settles like a stone in my chest.

My mother coughs.

"You're leaving?" She interjects casually. "What's prompted this?"

Kasper turns a wonderfully endearing scarlet as he remembers that my mother has been dutifully avoiding our gaze and pretending not to listen to us for the past several minutes. "I received a letter, from my family. Well, really it was my parents; they were calling me back, something about my extended liaison here and how I needed to return. I cannot ignore them and will be returning at some point, but I do wish to come back here at the earliest opportunity." He mumbles and stutters.

"Arendelle will always be a home to those that seek honorable things." My mother promises, a heavy implication settling in to her tone.

"I am honorable, very honorable." Kasper assures.

"I'm sure you are. So sure, in fact, that I am going to leave you alone with my oldest daughter, and her unborn child, and entrust that you see her safely to bed without that wretched Viktor weaseling his way near her. I can't imagine he would make an appearance so late, we should be safe until the morning, but you never can be too careful." Mother explains, her eyes growing tired and a solitary yawn breaking free from her throat. She makes her final goodbyes and then takes to the hallway, hopefully to meet a good night's sleep void of nightmares.

Kasper busies himself folding his napkin and chewing his cheek. It dawns on me that for all his grandiose proclamations of this and that which might lead to scarier hints of larger things; that I have said very little in return.

"I will let you take my burden, if you allow me to take yours." I offer. "You can look out for me, but you have to let me look out for you."

"I don't need much looking out for." Kasper insists.

"You only think that because I spend so much time in the background keeping things right." I insist, noticing that the slight shaving incident across his jaw has healed well.

"Well." Kasper smiles an endearing smile. "If I ever find myself in need of snow or ice I shall come to you at once."

"So you are in agreement then; we bear each other's burdens."

"Yes," Kasper affirms, "yes we do."

* * *

**You know the deal, let me know what you thought and I will reverently read and reread your review until I have worked myself in to a frenzy. **

**A new chapter will be up on the 16th. **

**-Whovian123**

**NicPie: Thank you. That timeline seems about right, for the sake of ironclad future consistency lets call Elsa 21 weeks along in this chapter. **

**chinaluv: Thank you. **

**David-3105: Thank you. I promise nothing about Kaspers future, just remember, nothing is certain. **

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you very much. There is a little bit of "Kelsa" in this chapter, though it might peter off during the next few, lots will be happening to distract the castle inhabitants. **


	75. Chapter 75

**Hello. Little bit of fleshing out for Viktor in this chapter, you get a sense of what kind of person he is and how he feels about his given task. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own frozen. **

* * *

It is strangely mundane how he presents himself in the morning. It comes as a simple knock on the door, so I am told by Gerda. He simply requests to see his room, nothing more, no audience with me, only the request for his room as if he belonged among us, as if his task was not the most vile given to any man.

I allow him his board, keeping sure that his rooms is as far as any might be from me or my family. We might share a roof but we need not run amuck with each other in the halls. I do not see him, do not welcome him in. I worry for a moment that I should, that I might want to maintain some sense of propriety, but decide against it.

Anna contests my cavalier attitude toward keeping another Southern Isles prince in the castle, but does not raise more than a fleeting objection. It comes as a painful parallel to the beginning of the Hans fiasco, a throwback to the shouting matches and Anna looking, and feeling, utterly betrayed, as I let the man that tried to kill us both roam the halls and lay claim to her childhood home.

I, myself, feel rather betrayed by my actions when I round a corner and see him there, standing and staring at a hulking tapestry of four knights and a mythical beast with scales, wings, and a chickens head.

For a moment I cannot breathe. He looks like him. I know that he does not, but the family traits are present and stand out as blotches of ink against unmarked parchment. All I can see is his hair, and all it seems is Hanses. His chest is puffed out, inflated with pride, and his eyes jump out at me, green, disgusting and bright.

He turns at my stuttering step and a glint of recognition charges through his eyes. "Queen Elsa, I was wondering if I would happen upon you soon. I didn't want to interrupt you so early in the morning, so I fancied myself a little look around. I think I have my bearings, but I am sure I'll find myself hopelessly lost in short order."

"Yes." I agree. "It's a big castle, and I'm sure you won't be here long enough to gain any sense of… familiarity."

"You're that far along are you?" Viktor's eyebrows shoot skyward. "I don't know why I was sent here, I know less about children and pregnancy than the most witless of farmers, but you don't seem all that close to birth, I am likely wrong though."

"It doesn't matter how much you know, not at all. I can assure you, with everything that I am that, and a little bit more, that you will never, in the vast turbulence of your life, not ever lay a singular finger on my baby." I feel cold flare in my chest, the warm kind, and know that there will soon be a light powering of snow on the ground and my shoulders.

Viktor signs, "I don't want to do this, really, who could? My brother, well, he it is rather fortunate he wasn't first born, he could never have been a King it was not the position for him."

"I know."

"Yes, I know you do, trust me, I really do know, and I'm sorry, not just for the misfortune. My parents didn't understand how Hans had managed to… _seduce_ you after you had sent him back with a rather _unfavorable _conviction. It came rather as a shock, but you must see it from their point of view, if they had recaptured him and taken him how they would have had explained what he did, such a crime brings great shame, with him as King over Arendelle he was no longer a burden to us and any whisperings of crimes against you and your sister would be ignored in light of you marriage." Viktor brushes the snow off his shoulders. "It was hoped that everything would simply fade away, but now that my brother has… died in such violent circumstances we need to reassert our authority. My family cannot be respected if we allow my brother's heir to live with the woman that murdered him."

"You understand that I did what I did for the sake of my parents, yes" I keep my voice surprisingly level.

"Yes, and obviously it was hard, and I intend to pay my respects to your father."

"DON'T YOU DARE." I seethe, built up resentment I did not realize I had been harboring spilling in to the air in form of frost. "You didn't know him, you didn't love him. He did not rule over you with grace and a smile. He didn't read you bedtime stories when you got scared, or hold your hand even though you were sure you would turn him to ice." My voice turns to thick gravel and tears threaten my eyes. "And you didn't save him, not once during the time Hans has him and my mother locked away in a tiny miserable cell did you have the grace to find them and save them. Instead my mother is lost and broken, and my father is abandoned."

"You can't possibly blame me for that." Viktor shrinks, his chest deflating and his eyes swiping side to side, worrying at the snow lying thick on the ground.

"Yet you blame me for this child." I gesture wildly to my stomach. "Had you made this announcement at the beginning, when I first found out, I would have jumped at the opportunity. I didn't want this, and I did not want your brother, but he forced this child in to my arms, he raped me on my _wedding night_ and murdered my father the same day for good measure, he beat me to my hands and knees but decided it wasn't enough." I wrench back the gossamer sleeves of my chosen dress, just enough fabric to disguise the ugly reminders of what fire does to ice. "Do you see these scars? Do you know who gave them to me, who bestowed them when I was broken and desperate for my family? Your brother. Your precious brother who's reputation must remain untarnished. He branded me like cattle, marked me as his and then beat me for good measure. I have watched bruises blossom and fade, and burns fester and heal. And in spite of everything; I have grown to love my baby. It was always going to happen, I could never not love it, it is one of the only things it cannot bring myself to truly hate from that time. I will not surrender it for the sake of a rich man's legacy."

"But surly the past is in the past."

"I thought that once," I remember wistfully the time I sang such foolishness from my lonely castle atop a mountain. "It's not true. The past is not gone; it is away from this moment, but only slightly. The past brought us here and this too shall someday become past, and it will matter no less for being so."

"I cannot return empty handed." Viktor protests. "There is a girl, she's not noble, and she's not wealthy, she has not status whatsoever. I want to marry her. My family won't allow it unless I can save us from this much larger scandal."

"I am sorry." I relent in the slightest. "But I cannot fall for sob stories. I am a queen and I need to protect my people, my family, and my child, and your happiness can surly come at the cost of your position. Run away with the girl, you are tenth in line; you need not wait around to see who comes to rule, for it shall not be you."

"Just. Please." Viktor pleads. "Let me stay a while, I've sent my ship away to return letters to my home, it will not be back for a month at least, and you said it yourself, you did not want the child, perhaps you will grow to detest it again."

"You may stay, only because I know it wrong to cast a man out into homelessness, but you should not hold out for detestation, for it shall not come, not ever." I assure Viktor, my shoulders shaking and my voice doing the same. My child will be born in to my arms and will stay there as it grows. I shall keep it close and clutch it to my breast, breathing as it does and loving it with all that I am and all I ever shall be.

Viktor shifts, steps forward and then back. "I sincerely hope you find a change of heart regarding your child very soon, I will do my very best to persuade you to do so." Seeming to have nothing left to say Viktor leaves. His feet walk with a disturbing lightness and his eyes drink in every detail available to them.

I am left standing among the layer of snow, struggling with the weight in my shoulders and chest. I know I should feel proud, some part of me knows that what I have said and done, owning up to everything that had happened to me, every violation, bruise, and burn, is good.

I wish I was proud.

Instead I just feel empty, void of anything beyond the marks and the memories. He has brought it all back. Viktor has brought with him every feeling I thought I had grown out of, every worry of evil men behind corners and tapestries. I wish I was beyond thinking this way, I had hate that I am not beyond it. My fear disgusts me and my mind betrays me.

I set out in the opposite direction, not knowing where I am going but determined to get somewhere, needing to get somewhere. Maybe I can run into Anna, tell her about everything; force myself to talk through this violent anger with myself. I want to be done with this. I should have been done with the months ago. I cannot bear a child into this chaos and hate.

Maybe Kasper, I find myself seeking him out an embarrassing amount. I explain it away through the fear that he will be leaving me all too soon and that he will find himself not wanting to return. I worry that he is lying when he tells me he cares, convince myself that he is after indecent things and that all I am is simply an indecent thing.

The concept of ever becoming anything other than a tainted waste of future is a strange one. I know I shall live out my life, but I also know I shall live it with the stubborn resentment of Hans and the things he forced on to my body, the actions that stand out on my skin as dark as bruises. When I have aged in the extreme, perhaps even been graced with grandchildren, I worry shall still flinch when startled by a hand on my shoulder.

My cheeks burn with cold shame as I make for the gardens, maybe Kasper is there, and if he is not, I doubt clear and clean air could ever do me wrong.

Outside I see that the tulips have sprouted into their magnificent, vibrant, fullness, cloaking the patches of earth with green stems, sweet oranges, and spring yellows. Finding that the air has worked its promised wonders I take long drags of the flowery sent.

I do find Kasper, and he manages to work more wonders than the air, which I suddenly find myself quite unable to get enough of. He lets me talk, and he talks in return, never once suggesting rude things when I confess to my brief dislike of my unborn child, a dislike I know I can never regret enough.

When I have said my piece, and been consoled with a hug that seems to reach into the deepest and iciest parts of my heart and awakens them with sweet warmth than could never burn, Kasper whispers that he will be leaving in five days' time.

I panic rather more than I would like. He promises me that he shall write at every opportunity and that he shall be back as soon as circumstances allow, but I still panic. He has become a rather consistent solace in the hours that Anna spends with her husband. I am reluctant to give up such an easy calming friendship.

* * *

**Sooo... Let me know what you thought.**

**I'll have a new chapter up on the 21st. **

**-Whovian123**

**chinaluv: Thank you, she is.**

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. First: Thank you. Second: It might. Third: They rather do, don't they?**

**NicPie: Thank you. Elsa has definitely gotten in touch with her "Mama bear" instincts. **

**David-3105: Thank you. It is nice to see Elsa back on her feet again, I rather missed her fiery nature. **


	76. Chapter 76

**Hi... Sorry about that missed update. I haven't been very good to you... Sorry, again. I had a strange and rather difficult two weeks and was not able to get any work done on this, it just wasn't going to happen. I'm sorry. I also don't currently have the presence of mind to do much of anything regarding the stacks of reviews owed responses. I promise (I know, an internet promise I can in no way be held accountable for) that I will respond to everything next chapter, so don't worry about that. **

**Speaking of next chapter, it will be out on the 31st, for realzies.**

**Promise. **

**Sorry once again for the delay (I'm Canadian, eh?) **

**Also, one last thing before I let you get on with the chapter, a humongous thank you to the people that reviewed worrying about me and why I didn't update, it was a huge boost to know that there are people scattered across the internet that care enough to ask and worry.**

**All of you, non-reviewers included, are the very best.**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

"He begged of you to detest your baby?" My mother's voice rises alarmingly as I recount my conversation with Viktor two days prior. "He suggested that you, this babies rightful mother, could every truly come to hate your child."

"Only after I admitted that I had for the very first few days." I confess sheepishly, my feet jittering on the cobblestone. The pair of us having set out to the stables, seeking to ensure that the facilities about the castle, and town, have been kept up to standard in the turbulence of recent events. "It wasn't something I thought I would ever be ready for, or suited for. I never expected to feel this overwhelming love, it's blinding. I know I could never hate my baby, and knowing that I did for those moments will be something I strive all my life to atone for."

"You reacted as well as anyone could have hoped, you did not want the baby, that is common enough is some situations, but worse still, you never wanted the man, you could only have sensibly thought you would not want anything resulting from such an act." Mother's voice falls away as Olaf's vaguely oval head bobs into view beyond a low cut shrub. Olaf is wonderful, but such topics are far too much for him, and he is much too prone to gossip. It was not something I particularly expected of a snowman, but I have learned to take most things in their stride. Little is considered strange when talking snowmen are brought in to the mix.

He prances up to us; his carrot following his excited gaze as he enjoys what I realize must be his first full spring. Last year he was graced with only the tail end after my birthday. "Elsa!" He wraps his arms around my leg for a quick hug, his flurry bathing us both in wonderful fluffed snow. "It's so beautiful. I always knew I would love summer, but spring. Wow. Spring." Deciding that the season needs no more than its name he falls into silence, something strange for the chattering snowman.

I smile down at him, and he smiles up at me. Then he giggles. "Sven and I have been exploring a lot." He offers. "Kristoff and Anna spend even more time together now, and we get left alone, so we go hiking."

"Oh really?" Mother crouches down to meet Olaf's line of vision. "And have you found the buried treasure?"

"Buried treasure?" Olaf's eyes glaze with wistfulness and temptation.

"Yes."

"But… I thought that was only for pirates."

"Arendelle has not been here since the beginning of time, Olaf." My mother explains, myself being left to watch with amusement. "Before it became the country it is today it was overrun with pirates. Some big, some small, all of them with peg legs and parrots. They left their gold and jewels everywhere. Some people say it's hidden behind a waterfall, some say at the bottom of lakes, or the side of mountains, or even at the very tops, tucked between jagged rocks to keep from being blown in to the fjords."

"Really."

"Yes, it's everywhere. I bet if you looked really hard you could find some."

Without a single word more to us Olaf spins around and begins frantically shouting Sven's name. I imagine the next time I see the pair they will be covered in an award worthy layer of mud.

I turn to my mother, eyebrow raised and a smile stretching my skin. "Pirates, pirates this far north? I always assumed they were creatures of a warmer climate."

"Perhaps they are." Mother nods, her eyes crinkled with a wise, sage like, mischief, and sets back toward the stable. "Be that as it may, Olaf will have fun, Sven will be walked, and there will be some forgotten relic somewhere that Olaf can stumble upon. It is in every way, a, _win win,_ as it were."

I come to a stop. "Wait… What? Did you do that to Anna and I when we were little, before the accident."

"Oh Elsa." My mother inflects an unbelievable seriousness. "I would never dream of doing such a thing to my two most darling girls…" She carries on with a delightfully confident walk toward the stable, and I find I cannot manage to care about a juvenile deception. She is happy. She is smiling and she is happy. Her eyes are not puffy, not anymore. I am sure they will come to be for, this and that, in the future, but she is no longer being force to pretend that she is not dissolving in to tears the moment she finds herself alone.

It is bittersweet. I want my mother to be happy, am, in fact, thrilled beyond words that she has been able to make jokes and lighthearted jabs. It does feel indecent though. It comes as a confusing realization that we are now living, truly living with feeling and emotion and desire, without my father. To have new memories without him feels like a farce, like they are merely pretend memories that will dissolve when he returns from some long journey and docks his boat to stroll back ashore and ask what has happened while he was absent.

With time it will be easier to manage. I have been told time does help; that the pain never leaves, but becomes more manageable. Both parties learn a rhythm. Pain learns there is a time and a place, and the bearer beings a careful dance of triggers, discovering what does and does not cause a wealth of tears to well.

I dance the best I can, knowing that it is quite the best I can do as I follow my mother. Tears are avoided and I manage the brief tang of pain. We sort out some horses, and are updated on the state of Arendelle's cavalry. It seems with the guard overhaul every section of Arendelles crucial employ has taken extra measures to achieve much more than I expect. I rather worry that I have come to expect too little.

After we have tended to all major matters of critical importance we take leave for dinner, enjoying the hours with Anna, Kristoff, and Kasper. Viktor, who had chosen to spend all previous meals in his room eating off of a tray, decides to saunter into the dining hall moments after I let out my customary held breath, having foolishly assumed that I would be granted yet another easy meal.

"Sorry I'm rather late." He declares to the room at large, slipping in to the chair beside Kasper, having the good sense to place at least one person between us. "I couldn't decide if it was appropriate or not for me to eat with you, given the… _circumstance, _but I realized I could not take one more lukewarm meal of whatever scraps were left over at the end of your feast."

I clench my fists, wringing out the table cloth as is my habit in moments of mealtime rage. It can manage to quell the snow. "You should have made mention of it, I'm sure the cooks didn't realize what caliber of food you were receiving." I force though gritted teeth.

"Funny you should mention your cooks." Viktor drawls. "You see, I did go to them, I asked them about the fine cuts of meat smoking and where it all went, I was told that I was undeserving of such finery. Now, Queen Elsa, I am sure you can imagine how distressing that was, so I rather fancied myself a meal down here, if only to sedate my urging for flavor." He chances as arrogant wink.

Anna and Mother open their mouths, indignant and fiery as ever in the face of conflict. There could never be any doubt to where Anna acquired her passion. Though it comes to pass that they say nothing as Kasper beats them to it. "As long as that is the only urge you will be satisfying whilst among our kind company." His eyes flash a murderous fury for a moment, and then return to his mild mannered casual glint.

"Before you say another word you best watch your tongue and remember that you are staying here on the good grace of Arendelles kind Queen." Mother snatches her own moment of fury as Viktor attempts to speak.

"I have no ship, and there will be none for months to come yet." Viktor explains. "Your kind queen has already confessed she could not turn a man out to the streets knowing there are rooms to be filled here."

"You would not be forced to the streets, Arendelle has many suitable inns."

"None would have me." Viktor grins a somber smile. "Your tales of Southern Isle ferocity have kept all those doors firmly shut"

"As well they should." Anna manages her first interjection. "My sister may be reluctant to send you to the streets, but you will do well to know I have no such qualms. I will cast you out in an instance if I hear the slightest of foul stories or mistreatment."

"I do not doubt it." Viktor nods and turns to his plate, piling slices of steaming smoky ham before him.

My heart does swell, even if I am rather perturbed by Viktor, to see such a stubborn display of loyalty from my family. I take heart in the knowing that they support me and, in spite of my shortcomings, they will put up a fight to demand that I be treated with respect.

Dinner does pass, as meals tend to do. Viktor is largely ignored, him having opted to focus on food and my family having decided silent glares will suffice.

Anna wolfs down every scrap of sustenance on her plate and stands up sharply in the silence. "Elsa." She calls me from my reverie. "Care for a walk? I know the weather is brilliant and fresh air can't do anything but good for you and your baby."

She asks the question knowing that there is no room for my refusal. I do not want to be with Viktor a moment longer and any chance to be with my sister after an absent childhood is pounced upon.

My chair scrapes and screeches across the ground as I stand, rapidly nodding and making for the door. Anna's hand comes to rest across my shoulders as she guides me from the dining hall and through the maze of hallways. It registers in the back of my mind that we are not heading toward the gardens, but I do not have the thought to protest, implicitly trusting my sister.

We climb some stairs, and then a startling amount more. After a time it occurs to me that there is no possibly way there are more stairs in the castle. I know the tallest of the spires do test the clouds, but surly Anna knows that those are only drafty cobwebbed attics.

"Anna?" I regain the presence of mind to wonder aloud at our height.

"Come on." She tugs lightly at my hands, leading me through towers of old faded paintings of people I have never meet with frames that lay split and splintered. "Elsa, just trust me. Your childhood did not allow for quite as much exploring as mine, if any, and you will find that a child such as me stumbles upon the very best hidden corners."

I nod and duck under several dangerously strewn planks of wood. I let my hand brush atop a small desk crippled with a mysteriously broken leg, and gather a thick bunch of dust. How many years have these piles of abandoned knickknacks been waiting for the sun? I am struck with just how little I do know of my own castle. At least I have Anna to tell me where the best nooks and crannies are.

"Just through here." Anna calls back to me, crawling through a gaping hole in the wall and causing me to wonder about the structural integrity of my home.

Dutifully I take to my hands and knees and follow Anna in good faith, hoping that she has not gotten lost and that I will not plummet through what I can only assume is a damp moldy floor. The sound of unlatching breaks the musty dusty silence and then sunlight streams out, catching in the thick air and casting long beams of stagnant light.

"Anna? You haven't built a magical portal up here have you?" I worry aloud. "If you have I must confess this is really a bad time to tell me, I don't have the energy to deal with it, Viktor and this baby are sapping every ounce I have left."

"Very funny Elsa." Anna chuckles and crawls out through the light. "Though in reality it is far less interesting."

Smelling the spring air I follow Anna, rather surprised when I feel the thick gritted surface of shingles underneath my hands. "Anna?" I ask, looking around and noting that we are perched upon a blessedly flat patch of roof near the top of the castle. "Why is there a tiny door that leads to the roof?"

"Can't we just pass if off as a miracle of my youth?" Anna shrugs as she pulls herself to the edge of the roof, letting her feet dangle over the edge and taking in long drags of the invigorating air. Looking back at me she notes with a slump of her shoulders than my expression leaves no room for such mystery. "Well, when I was quite a bit younger, ten, maybe, I was exploring the attics. They held appeal and very many boxes with things begging to be unboxed, and while I was going through old rugs, one of the ones that I moved tumbled down and knocked through the wall, I think it was damaged by the rain, and, well, I crawled through it and realized that there was a bit of a hole in the roof, I set up a small little door type apparatus to keep the floor safe, but it also allowed me to come out here." Anna runs her hands across the rough slanting panels of the roof, smiling to herself. "It was different up here, I controlled what was happening, when I came and when I went, it gave me a little bit of control over my life, and I needed that when everything seemed to be going wrong."

I nod. "I understand the feeling."

Anna chuckles. "Our childhoods might have been much more alike than we realized."

I nod again, pulling myself beside Anna and enjoying the view. There are thick fronts of cloud hanging over the fjord, casting out a fog that has refused to burn off throughout the day, and streaking beams of sun catch above the mountains; twilight is still a ways off.

Something that has been pressing about in my mind surfaces again, something I must ensure Anna knows. "It won't be like last time." I promise my sister. "Last time, when Hans was here and you didn't want him here, when I couldn't tell you anything and we fought." I recall the intimidating rift that threatened to tear us apart while Hans paid us his extended final visit.

"I know." Anna nods out to the vibrant sun. "It's awkward, and you must admit, very familiar; but this time I know you are on my side. I don't have to question you, or him, I know where we all stand and as long as you stand with me I am confident that I can manage whatever."

I smile to myself and enjoy the slow meandering view I am afforded. Anna is right, this is manageable, and though this man is reluctant to relent, I am even more so.


	77. Chapter 77

**Hi... Ops... I never really meant to write this chapter. I had planned on a very different one, something alot more plot-y... **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen.**

* * *

I should not be out. Through no accounts of sanity should I be out. I belong in bed, well fed and ready to be well rested. Tomorrow is a big day, a rather pivotal day, even if I should not view it quite so importantly. I wish I were in bed, wish my head were pushed in my pillow, my breath even, and my mind in a dream. Though I convince myself I have good reason for being out, persuade my ankles to ignore their deep-seated ache and force my feet to keep paddling along the castle corridors.

My fingers twiddle and I step out in to the light summer night. The air is new and clear and sits in my chest far better than anything has the last week. I smile at the guards waiting outside the large double doors of the castle, and pardon their startled looks and confused questions. They are ill at ease but I assure them I am fine and in full control of my late night stroll. It is easy enough to blame on an uncomfortable night with sleep evading me. They offer an escort, but I smile and decline.

I feel their eyes on me as I walk away, leaving the castle grounds and crossing the bridge that connects the spires to the city. Letting my shoulders fall I embrace the watery breeze flitting off the fjord. My hands come to my stomach, a sort of timid cradling of the, now prominent, swell. Gone are the days of strategic draping and bunching on dresses, the entire world would know the truth with but a fleeting glance.

My feet take me on a semi familiar side route, a sort of pebbled trail that snakes away from the city and the castle and comes to rest beside the fjord. As I scamper past the pines and do battle with the roots that hide in the darkness and seek to keep my night wandering to a minimum, I become aware of myself.

My hands fly to my hair, frantic to lay it flat, to keep it somewhat presentable. All I achieve is a tickling sensation against my back as my braid swings wildly. I smooth my dress out, taking the creases and lines and casting them down and out, desperate to shrink my stomach, to make it ignorable once more.

Finding that my feet catch where they are and my breath refuses to come anymore, I halt in the tree line. It was only a note, a stupid note, probably a joke. He will not be there, not for me. Who would wait on a beach in the dark for me? It was sitting so perfectly, folded in to an elegant square and left expectant on my pillow, yet also timid, afraid that perhaps it would be me that became the reluctant party.

I stare down at my hands, wiggle my fingers in a cadence and then let frost leak out. I weave streaks of it around my fingers, let it play and float across my skin, craving that comforting blanket of feeling, the normalcy that cold things bring to my being. The chilled foggy air pools in my hands, swirling in an infinite spiral. I bring my cupped hands to my chest, letting the frost fall back in to my heart, letting it burrow deep inside of me and take back its home at my core.

Then I step out.

Never before has a single step felt so passionately like a grand reveal.

My breath rests like lead in my chest and my fingers feel numb and hypersensitive all at once. My toes tingle and my breast comes to heaving with relief as I see his silhouette. It is tall and exaggerated in the moonlight, caught in the webbing of stars and gentle rocking waves. I let out a nervous laugh.

He spins around, his head leaving the charge, and his eyes zero in on me. There is a brilliant relief, which I share, displayed bluntly across his face. For several seconds it feels as if we are relieved as one, breathing the night air as one, desperate to be one, and now as spirits caught scandalized by moonlight.

"Hi." Kasper smiles; his fine stubble, having since grown back from his ill-thought out attempt at shaving, twisting to reveal his teeth and the laugh lines by his mouth. His eyes crinkle with splendor.

"Hi." I manage back.

"I wasn't sure if the note would get to you, or if you would even consider it."

"This is your last night here, how could I not?" I answer, the reasoning cemented in my mind. Kasper is leaving, I need to spend this time with him, need to trace his outline in every setting possible, need to remember beyond all shadow of doubt the way his forehead scrunches as he worries and the ease in his shoulders when he is content. The expanse of his chest must dance in my mind as he is taken from me, and the strength, understated yet wild, of his arms must keep me upright while I manage my life and keep myself as sane as I can ever hope to be.

"It would be easy to not, easy for you to stay in your castle, to not trust me." Kasper moves towards me. "Would it be wrong of me to touch you?" He mutters. "I want to remember you, the way you feel, the way you bunch up your nose when you try not to laugh, the way your hair will never ever lie down nice and neat the way you want it too. I can't afford to forget anything about you, not even for a moment."

"It doesn't matter if it's wrong of you." I work through a silent cry to the heavens. "You're leaving." The fact burns the air, igniting us with its starkness. "Tomorrow you sail away and I know that you will be taking some part of me with you. Tonight you may take what you need."

Kasper brings his hands to my waist, widened by the baby between us, and sets his forehead against mine. "Whatever you have given me to take, know that I leave just as much and more behind."

I nod.

His body presses close to mine, awkward with my bulk. His arms are around my back, one flat across the curve of my spine and the other cupping the back of my head tangled in my hair. "Could we not have done this tomorrow?" I ask, pressing my face against Kaspers chest, desperate to reach his heart and feel its constant thud on my skin. "I can't say good bye to you twice." It startles me how hard the thought of any goodbye with this man has become.

"Then let this be the real one, let tomorrow be the formal seeing off of a Queen to her visitor. You will wave and smile and I will do the same, while we both know we are shells playing a part. We left ourselves on this beach, parted here more truly than anywhere else." Kasper plays with my hair, teases the uncontrollable wisps with his fingers as he allows a timid smile at the stark whiteness. "And when I come back," my voice works on its own, trying to pipe up and say what scares me, "as I will do whether or not it is permitted by my dear mother and father, we will meet on this beach, ourselves bared from the masks and the roles."

Kaspers eloquence startles me; he is always startling me it would seem. There are things I would rather like to say to him. Things that are made rather difficult by what is, will always be, between us; my baby. By extension there is also Hans. The things I was made to do, the ways my flesh has burnt, bruised, and been made to house an heir. Kasper knows it; he knows everything that I cannot ever do. That I cannot ever properly come to say anything that he wants to hear, that my body shrinks at the thought of anything so intimate, and that my nights still flit thick with images of angry green eyes. Even if the frequency has dropped to a much more manageable level.

"I'm going to miss you." I mumble clumsily in to his shirt, enjoying the rough fabric against my cheek and the warmth that seeps from him to me, not melting, not corrupting my winter; simply giving it dimension.

"I have gotten all too used to you." He confesses, his hands moving to run down my arms and take my hands. "It's awful really, sometimes I forget important things I should be doing. I panic when I think about my future, what it may look like. Before all this, before I had a chance to properly bump in to you in a garden, or rather for my dog bump in to you, my future was fine, tolerable and filled with great missions and adventure to new places. Now I know nothing but that I want to see you in it."

I step away, a half step really, just far enough to look up and meet his eyes but keep my hands tight in his. "Then you have to promise me that you will come back, but only when it's safe. Storms are a while off yet, but I don't know when you're coming back, hopefully not that late. Just, please… My parents nearly drowned at sea, I don't want to face that end again; there is little worse."

"It would take forces stronger than the biggest wave in the deepest ocean to keep me from here."

"I hope so." I mutter, voice mixing with anger and frustration. I do not want this, it do not want the uncertainty of separation. No one has ever left me to come back, not when I wanted them to. I feel trails of frost breathe from my back and shoulders; it wills itself in to the world, taking on its own life because it knows my body cannot hold it, that I need an outlet.

Kaspers eyes follow it, watch them. They trace the half-moons and rapid curls, mesmerized by what could kill him if my control slips. I shut my eyes and drop his hands, pulling everything back in to me, keeping it safe and inside. No one can get hurt if it builds up there, no one will find a stray bolt of ice in their heart. No one else will die because of me, least of all the people I care about.

"Do you understand that I could kill you?" I find myself talking and near sobbing, a wealth of poorly hidden fears tainting our midnight parting. "I could lose control, get angry, be sad, even be happy, and it could kill you."

"I don't care." Kasper is delightfully blunt. "I have never cared that you could be dangerous; that you might dust my shoulders with snow when I hold you, that you're smile doesn't end at your cheeks, but extends in to the air with frost and fog that seems alive as a backdrop to everything you."

"I wish I were different, that I could hate without anyone knowing, or that I could laugh. And dance, and _feel _without descending always in to a volatile state of such danger." I have the sense of mind to silence myself. Why give Kasper a list of sensible reasons to leave and stay away, away back home where he belongs, not here on some flimsy promise of platonic companionship.

"I don't wish you were different, not ever, not in any little way. We are the sum of our victories and our failures, and our strengths and our weaknesses." Kasper takes my hands again, lightly, giving plenty of time to pull away and run from this place. "I would not have you any other way."

Taking a sadistic glance downward I retort with venom. "Though maybe not pregnant with a dead sociopath's child?"

He sighs, a slow calculated sigh. I rush to apologize, hating myself for bringing it up. It is always obvious; I do not need to bring it to the forefront of conversation. Before I get far with my blathering he cuts me off with a careful calloused hand to my cheek. "You're life has not been an easy one, and the months surrounding your _wedding_ could not have been bearable to anyone else… _But _You're baby is going to be absolutely fantastic. I am a strong believer in nurture over nature, and nothing you nurture could ever been impure or improper."

"Is that so?"

"Yes." He insists without a moment's thought. "I would be most terribly honored to have even the slightest presence in that child's life, for I am sure it shall lead the most spectacular one."

I lose all thought and become entranced by the hand on my cheek. "I need to get back, _we_ need to get back. You have a big day, and I need all the sleep afforded to me… And empty beds, what if someone noticed, what would they think?" I try to rationalize sleep; try to convince myself that it is the best course of action for the meager remains of my night.

"Oh we most definitely should," Kasper smiles, "neither of us should be down here. There could be wolves, robbers, bandits, trolls, dragons, any number of mythical beasts waiting in the trees or the water, though they likely would have pounced by now. Really though, the prime reason I should not be up so shamefully late with you is the things I find myself thinking, and furthermore, the things that I actually say." His hand is still on my cheek, his fingers light and plunging in the depths of my chest, taking my heart and playing with it in ways I doubt any other ever could. It is a clumsy sort of precision, nothing as difficult as though skill, simply as stark as breathing.

"This one." He continues, his voice having shrunk to a whisper that sends heat to every corner of my body and then some. "This one I am going to regret most off all, for how could it ever be a yes. Although I must remember that I asked myself the same of my saying it." Kasper's train of though seems thoroughly derailed, but he pulls himself together for his next request.

"Might I kiss you?"

I panic.

My thoughts lurch to all that I associate with the kiss. Hans has been my only meager experience with his few possessive displays of control and his willingness to strip me of all I have though strategic displays of his _affection. _

He would be at the forefront of my mind, invading the moment meant for only two. Hans would taint it; Hans would find a way to taint that man that I know, that I want to kiss more than anything. I suppose it's been dancing around my mind with guises and slick names for rather a while now, waiting to be found out and acknowledged. The mounting desire to have all manner of flesh pressed together.

Then I realize I've leaned forward.

It is nothing much, a simple chaste thing that takes my soul and pins it out amongst the stars.

My chest heaves and I know that there is snow everywhere; it falls in wild buckets from the sky and lands on thick inches of frost. Wind picks up, the cold kind that belongs in winter, it thrashes our hair and clothes about, not that we manage even the slightest care.

Then I pull away, stepping back on my heels and leaning in to the hand still on my cheek.

His eyes twinkle their magical blue and his face is a picture of serene. He takes a moment to stare at me, his hand gliding across my cheek bone and through my hair. "You are perfect."

"Ridiculous." I barely have breath for the word.

He smirks and I smirk back. Then he catches himself. "This doesn't have to mean anything, honestly, this is enough to keep me going until the end of time."

"NO." My voice is too loud, ringing in my ears and off the water. "No, please, I… I don't know. I think I might want it to mean something, to _alter _our standing…"

"You can think about it, while I'm gone. You can run it over in your head and have the final say on what becomes what. I'll come back and you can tell me that night, down here, on our little beach." Kasper assures me, with a wonderful soft voice, that I am in control of something, that this is for me to decide, that I have say in who does what with my body, and that I will never not.

I remind him that we have to sleep, and with a dopey grin on his face he offers me his arm. We walk back together, slowly. Taking quite a bit more time than is necessary, we talk of nothing and make no more for further thought. We are tired and elated, each of us stepping on air and not daring a word to pierce the illusion. We part at my door, Kasper offering the back on my hand a brief moment at his lips before watching my slip into my room.

Sleeping proves a challenge, but I manage an hour.

* * *

**Soo? Lemme know how that when over with you all. I'm trying not to let Elsa really rush in to anything, because of that whole Hans thing. **

**But then this happened... **

**Sorry. **

**I also want to add, it will not be smooth sailing from here, just a warning. **

**New chapter out on the 5th. **

**-Whovian123**

**chinaluv: Thank you.**

**ElsaWilson: Thank you. **

**HarmonyForever88: I have this strange feeling that you are really going to love the above chapter... **

**NicPie: Thank you. The sisters needed a place all their own with the things they have been put though. **

**zoopdedo: Thank you, I can't wait either. **

**David-3105: Thank you, and thank you for checking up on me when I missed the update. It's nice to know I'm not just writing at a wall. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Elsa and her family will come to make quite the unbeatable team.**

**Guest: Sorry about the delay. **


	78. Chapter 78

**Hello! I hope you are all well and not to furious at me for the last chapter. This chapter is also a wee bit slow but I'm promising you a long plot filled actiony chapter next time. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

I see him off in the morning. I am polite, and poised, careful not to smile more than I would have, and completely sure that everyone notices the subtle change. Kasper's ship is clean, and safe; sure to weather whatever storms may come its way, thought I still worry. As he smiles and boards the urge to run after him and beg him to stay tugs in my chest.

I manage. I always do. I struggle and war with myself, all tucked away in my mind of course, and in all too little time the fragile, easily sinkable, ship has faded from a silhouette against the sun in to nothingness.

It was a small affair, Anna tagged along, citing a fondness for all people from anywhere as an excuse to get out of the castle. Largely I suspect she simply wanted to be out in the spring air. She watches me with an obvious, and repetitive, side glance as we leave the dock, the dock that has seen so much over the months, and breaks our short silence.

"So what happened?"

"Anna." I scold, doing my best to look shocked and confused. "Nothing, why would you think otherwise? I haven't even been able to see him since dinner." I know I have flushed, can feel the heat dancing across my skin and settling in my cheeks. I do my best to ignore it.

"Elsa." Anna schools me, her voice proving that she could have been the most excellent school teacher. "I am not a fool; do not paint me as one. I may not be in tune with everything, but I know you well enough to see through your lies. And I never said anything about a 'him'."

"Slander," I call, "absolute slander." I wring my hands nervously, realize I am doing it, and then thrust them to my sides, hanging them tight and stiffly. "It was nothing." I promise. "I don't even know what it means. Obviously it can't mean anything." I insist. "Can it?"

"I wouldn't know." She answers my, increasingly panicked, musing. "I would have to know what it was before I could give you my sisterly wisdom." Anna shoots me a cheeky grin and couples it with a look that tells me I will not be getting away without first divulging the most intimate details of whatever has happened to cause such a shift.

I relent, nearly eager to tell someone about last night, thrilled at speaking it aloud and making it real, but also desperate to keep what happened suspended in the moonlight, forever between only Kasper and me. Anna is my sister, my only confidant; I can trust her with this, that I am sure. "He left me a note, in my room, yesterday, Kasper did. We met down by the fjord, at a little pebble beach. It was nice, and we were honest…" I pause, forgoing all pretense of serenity and wringing my hands raw. "Then I kissed him."

"You kissed him?" Anna hisses in a rapid squeal. "I knew it!" She boasts. "I knew you two were more than just friends, there was too much tension, too much chemistry and magic between you two." She delights in her knowledge and takes up short small jumps. "Was it good? Did it feel magical? What does it mean for you two? Is there another wedding in your future?"

For all of Anna's excitement, and my own, I balk. Wedding? I cannot do another wedding. The first one was too terrible. I will never trust another white dress for as long as I might live. Anna's wedding was fine, perfect even; I was detached enough from the dress and the walking, and the solemn dancing that is all too easy a place to break down someone's world.

"NO." I start. "I mean, I don't know. It was good, very good, unexpectedly so. I didn't know it could feel that way, I always assumed it was just a mechanical motion that rested no deeper than the lips, but you know it in your soul, don't you?"

Anna nods; a distant smile on her face. "So… Where do you stand with each other? He _has_ just left for what will likely be a several month journey home."

"He's coming back." I insist in a rush. "He isn't staying away, he's coming back. And we are going to write, constant letters, all the time." I well up with irrational panic. I have had little luck with men so far in my life.

"I know." Anna's tone turns soft, comforting, almost coo like. It does help. "He _is_ coming back, and you _will_ write letters, but it is going to be a while, and where will you be when he comes back? How will you introduce him from now on?"

"I don't know." I confess. I start us moving from the dock, becoming aware of sideways stares and short whispers. I have been the topic of enough gossip to last me many lifetimes over, I will not cause any more drama or irregular winters. "He told he nothing has to happen, not if I don't want it to. But that's the thing. I want something to happen, I think I do, am almost sure I do, but I don't know what."

We let a shallow silence settle that follows us nearly to the gates of the castle.

"Is it because of Hans?" Anna displays a clarity of mind that should no longer be as surprising as it is.

"I think it might be." I worry and hate myself for being scared of a man, that I am sure could never elect to cause me harm, because of a sociopath he had nothing to do with. "It's just… as perfect as the kiss was; I was scared of it, because of _Hans_. I would spend the entirety of my life with him worrying about Hans and feeling as if our every action was shadowed by him."

We pass through on to castle grounds and take a slight detour away from the tall double doors of the entrance, neither of us keen to trap ourselves within walls so soon on a spring day.

"Elsa, your life _is_ going to be shadowed by this, it will be there. Hans isn't going to disappear." Anna confides. "But you must come to live with it. There are good days and there are bad days, everyone one has both, there is just more ammunition for your bad days." She comes to stop under a tree budding with new life and casting away the empty skeletal appearance of winter, coming once again to be full, to soon bear fruit.

"If anything is to come of… _this_, "I struggle to find a term for Kasper and myself, "it is sure to be slow and uncomfortable."

"Gosh, Elsa, we didn't expect anything else from you." Anna nearly laughs to herself, stopping only when she sees my confused expression. "You are not the type to take commitment to anything lightly; furthermore this will have made you weary. Kasper will be lucky to get another kiss before his fortieth birthday."

"Do you think it will be too much for him? Would he leave because I won't be able to do… _things?_ Anything really." I worry aloud, giving voice to the fear that no one will put up with my random flinches and cold sweat nightmares forever. I am irrevocably damaged, this is not a flesh wound that will heal and become ignorable with time, this is a broken bone that forever sticks out at an angle and draws attention.

"I don't think anyone could bring themselves to abandon you, Elsa. But, if we find that Kasper makes the ill-advised choice of breaking your heart you can be sure I will waste no time in tracking him down and forcing vengeance."

"I worry sometimes, that you are far too violent." I take now to smiling with Anna under the green growing tree. "It makes no sense how such a tiny body can fit so much rage." Anna laughs and sets herself down in the shade of the tree trunk, I follow suit.

"I wouldn't call it rage, more of a… reasonable desire to see my family safe and happy for the rest of forever." Anna smiles and stares out at the castle, admiring the early morning sun climbing up to the topmost spire where her secret ledge rests.

The blue of the roof catches well in the blue of the sky and becomes an overwhelming display of blue tenfold, more blue that I honestly thought possible.

Daring gulls swoop about the mountains and the castle, coming to land on all manner of ledge and outcropping. There is newness in the moment and lightness in it. Perhaps I am changed, though I do rather doubt something so simple could even have so profound an effect on me.

I settle for contented.

I can be, for now, utterly contented with my sister, my mother, my home, and my place within it all.

Like most patches of peace it my life it does not last for more than moments. Viktor strides in to view, his casual saunter around the garden revolting.

"I don't particularly trust him." Anna announces, knowing that he is well out of earshot and wholly occupied with an array of fountains and brush. "But I'm also compelled to feel just a little bit sorry for him. From what I know of Hanses youth, it wasn't common knowledge that he was so… _unusual. _Viktor couldn't possibly have known what to expect when he came here."

"During one of our encounters he claimed the only reason he is here is to earn favour with his family so that he might marry a peasant girl." I watch as he continues his stroll away from our tree, not having noticed us.

"Why would he need his families favour for that, what harm could a farm girl do?" Anna's naivety rears its head.

"Anna, I could have kicked up quite the fuss when Kristoff asked for your hand." I remember the letters that came pouring in after my coronation, all asking for the same thing, my sisters hand for their very suitable, handsome, charming princes. "You have no idea how many letters of proposal went in the waste bin."

"Really?"

I nod. "I had to give Kristoff a fighting chance, smooth princes are much to overdone, and our family has little luck with them… It doesn't change your opinion of Kristoff does it? I didn't think much when I threw the letters out, would you have rather I let you consider them? You seemed so taken that I didn't think it mattered much."

"NO, no, no. Of course not. I would have done the very same with them as you. Kristoff is the only man for me, though it is terribly flattering to know I was so actively sought by the masses." Anna teases, a slight flip of her hair accompanying a light laugh.

"Very much so. Although, it can't have come from an all that decent a place, some of them had never even met you. Kristoff was by far the safest choice. I could deal with him taking away my little sister, he is a decent person, he is worried enough of doing something wrong." I reflect on my brother in law, he is suitably weary of me. I needed to keep sure that my sister is respected.

In the end he makes her happy unlike I have ever seen. He has never failed her and asks for nothing in return for everything he has to offer, which albeit less than that a prince could give, is far more pure than Anna could have found from royalty. He will do, he will do wonderfully.

"I can't imagine he was being honest." Anna says.

"Who?"

"Viktor, of that girl, that farm girl. I'm not sure I would believe that." Anna states. "He could just as easily be lying to gain sympathy. He seems the man for it."

"I will not trust a word out of his mouth, nor any other in that family." I vow, knowing that his family is not safe, that Hans can only be bred from something terrible. Terror such as that cannot spring from nowhere, it is cultivated and grown and spreads like thick black mold.

* * *

**Remember to review, favorite, and follow. If you do I will love you forever. **

**Next chapter comes out on the 10th. **

**-Whovian123**

**marine matilda****: Shhhhh... mum's the word... **

**David-3105: Thank you. Probably there will be a chance for romance, probably. Viktor is sure to kick up a fuss in the mean time though. **

**ElsaWilson: Thank you. I'm not too sure how well that particular nightmare fits in, if it seems the natural progression at some point I can fit it in, and if I if do I will be sure to credit you. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. We can be sure that everything will pan out far less smoothly than what Elsa is hoping for. **

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. While they have reached the promise land I have heard there is a tsunami warning, they could still be dragged out to sea. Also Dumb Dumb will see a fair bit of action in the next chapters. **


	79. Chapter 79

***Peers nervously around corner.*Hello? I haven't been very good have I? I don't really have an excuse. It just didn't happen. It is entirely my fault. Feel free to PM me with a nasty rant about internet promises. I would tell you it wont happen ever again, because I myself and sure it will not, but I would rather prove it to you by never missing an update again. So that I shall do. **

**Also yes I am fine, alive, and well. If you were worried. **

**That is, if there are any of you left...**

**I trust you are all well as well? **

**I'll stop blathering. At least this chapter is long, eh? **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

"Do we really have to put up with this?" Mother breaks, having lasted several weeks' worth of meals with Viktor and his tactless chatter. "I will not sit here for several months more just to hear you talk about your family, and what you intend to do to mine." She throws her fork, which had been stiffly held hovering above her dinner for quite a while now, at Viktor. Who had moments before been boasting about his wealth and influence in The southern Isles.

To my quiet dismay, but overwhelming relief, he dodges and is simply clipped lightly on his shoulder. My relief is dashed by his prompt standing and foul gaze. "That could have hurt me."

"I wish it had." Mother seethes, groping blindly for the knife and spoon that Anna had the good sense to confiscate moments earlier. "You sauntered in here just like you do every day. You never show any remorse, you parade about, flaunting your power and your wealth. I will not let you speak ill of my family once more."

"We all know why I'm here, I will not pretend, for any of your sakes, that I will leave this place without my brother's heir." Viktor snaps just a thoroughly as my mother. "I need that baby, this is non-negotiable. You women don't seem to understand the severe politics behind this, the Southern Isles must remain a strong presence in the new world, the future is uncertain and we must meet it without question."

"You bloody will leave. I am done with this, have hit the very end of my tether and will see to it that you are set out to sea in a row boat with nothing but a single ore, a tin of water, half a strip of dried beef, and not a stitch of clothing so that you shrivel and burn before you have the chance to infect any other place with your presence." Mother grapples with Anna for a moment, desperate for more utensils to throw, for anything to throw it would seem.

"No," I shout back, unwittingly entering this fruitless shouting match. "Both of you calm down, this isn't worth it. We know the circumstance and Viktor will be sent home soon enough Mother, whether he desires it or not. If his boat had not returned in two weeks' time we will send him back on one of ours, with a crew of our own. We can even sedate the Isles with gifts of silk and mountain gems in exchange for keeping the child."

"Do you expect pretty playthings to suffice?" Mother yells at the room, her voice ragged and emotion welling. I am lost and confused, my mother is calm, poised always, she has been venerable recently, yes, but she retained herself so well. "Simple stones mean nothing to those people. They want what they want and there is a war if they do not receive it. All we can hope to do is declare it before they can."

"This is an outrage." Viktor asserts. "I am a guest, I demand dignity."

"I was a guest too!" My mother screams with everything she has, attracting the attention of several maids and cooks that peer through the door, looking to ensure that everything is ok, which it is not. "That's what he called us, his _guests. _Your brother, Hans, he called me and my husband his guests, and he pranced about, teasing us with his freedom every day, flaunting what he could do that I could not. I refuse to be reduced to that again. You are the guest, I am not. This is my home and it needs to be safe, for my children and my grandchildren." She throws her chair back and makes wildly for Viktor, taking all that she has left, her plate, and sending it sailing through the air only to splinter on the wall with a marking shatter.

"MAMA." Anna snaps, frightened and desperate to diffuse the quickly spiraling situation. "You can't hurt him. I understand that you want to, but you cannot. Do you think we don't want to?" She gestures wildly behind her, to me, "he's here to do terrible things, things we never want to even consider, and he defends his brother, Hans, that man. Of course we want to hurl things, and smash plates, but we can't." Anna speaks to what sensibility clings to the air, pleading for sanity to regain its hold and to leave us untouched and safe from danger and rage.

Mother does not relent, thought she no longer struggles to advance. Her breathing comes in thick rapid gasps, her breast heaving and her eyes wild, I am worried for her, but most predominantly I am scared. I have not seen her like this, I have seen her angry, witnessed her break in spectacular fountains of warm salty tears, but I have not witnessed the simple boiling over of emotions that demand action.

"I cannot stand here and listen to your plain ranting, my reason is my own and I shall take what I need and not be harassed day and night until it happens." Viktor slams his hands on to the table and a bare fury fills his features. "I don't want to be here, but I have to be, and I will leave with my brother's heir, I don't care who tries to stop me."

I try to breathe, try to manage anything. To keep my world carefully placed together, stacked as a wobbling tower of wooden blocks. I remind myself that my baby is staying with me, that my mother and sister will always be with me, safe, and that Viktor will not leave with anything more than shame as he takes home empty arms to his family.

Anna lays a slow hand on our mothers shoulder, and it causes a deflation in her posture. Where the hand met skin falls away and she comes to a slumped head over the table edge with Anna still assuring her that the world will hold together and that Viktor is nothing to the three of us.

Viktor himself seems to be fighting calm, wanting to keep himself riled in the event of a secondary bout of attack. None comes. He does not relent, stays poised, charged, agitated even, begging for the chance to let lose whatever rage and violence has been building within him.

"I don't need to take the baby back," he announces, venom seeping in to the air as I wait, breath bated, for a condition that renders his kindness moot, "If you truly wish I could take one of your lives instead, a quick blade through the throat, that is all it would truly take." He slides a hidden weapon from up his lose green sleeves, billowing fabric having concealed the bulge. His demeanour changed with his fist wrapped tight around the pommel of a short fat dagger. He challenges us, dares us to speak out. "It would be much easier," he declares, "for me to kill and be done with it, a life for a life, tit for tat; but my family wants the baby, desires a second life of sorts for my wonderful late brother, so I shall give them what they want, provided you make it easy for me."

I panic, my heart thuds and I know there to be a thick rime creeping across the shrieking panes of glass, and deep set cold settling in to the beams of the vaulted ceiling with a muted creaking. "Put it away." I stammer senselessly, ignoring all else now, forgetting my family and my reason, abandoning, even, the urge to keep Viktor happy and alive. I come to focus only on the glint of candle light on metal, and the din of rushing blood fills my ears and blocks out whatever Anna might be saying, likely something reasonable and calm, something I ought to listen to.

Viktor makes no move to abide by my command.

"As Queen of this country I am demanding that you drop your weapon this instant!" I scream at him, letting my voice fill with power and cold, letting frost build in to billowing wisps of wings around me. I am sure I leave no room for questioning, convinced really that if Viktor made the move to lunge for my family, or myself, that I would turn him to ice and shatter him to shards so fine they looked as crystalline hairs. I may have been willing to play host to a man in unfortunate circumstances, but I will not abide by the wishes of a man pulling weapons at table and threatening that which I hold dear.

The squat blade clatters to the ground as Viktor starts at my force and is stunned in to loosening his grip. He stammers as if waking up and quickly backs away from the table, working himself up against the wall, shoring at least one side of himself, keeping his back safe from whatever attack he is expecting. "Your Majesty," he begins, affording me a title, "you must forgive me. My situation, you will understand, is very sensitive."

"As is mine." I remind. Viktor seems to have lost touch with the ties that family gives and just quite how much it burns and boils to have such a thing threatened. "You will retire to your room, and you will not set foot outside of it until you have been called by me. I will decide what to do with you."

Anna makes for the door and is met by several guards throwing them open and charging in, shouting about maids and reports of shattered plates.

Viktor shrinks while the situation is explained, his eyes darting back to the dagger, regret at having dropped it clear in his features. There is little remorse beyond his words; his demeanour does not suggest that anyone would have been safe with him for a moment longer. He is led out of the room with guards on either side of him. Several offer to stand watch outside his room. I thank them profusely, feeling nearly safe with people between him and me.

It takes all my will to not demand that he be send to sea in a rowboat with a tin of water and a scrap of meat as my mother suggested. I convince myself that he deserves it, that he deserves what is unquestionably a death sentence. He threatened Anna's life, my mother's life, my own life, and the life of my baby. I stumble toward his dagger, bending down and almost expecting the steel to burn me when I touch it.

"He has to go." Anna breaks my reverie. Her arms are wound tight around our mother, keeping her upright and likely holding her together. "I won't have him here another day longer, let them have silk and gems, we don't need them, deal with their threats, it cannot possibly come to war, not over this, not when he is the way that he is."

I nod, fixed on the dagger, bound to it.

"Tomorrow, at dawn- I cannot call myself just if I send him out in to the night." I speak over Anna's rushing interruption, her insistence that all talk of propriety be thrown out in to the fjord. "I am Queen, and I need to keep my reputation sound. What good will it do anyone if I am seen sending a… _guest _out to sea as the sun goes down, if then, with the time it would take to prepare a boat we would be lucky to see him off before midnight."

"Elsa." Mother warns, her voice shaking and her posture stooped. "If he is to remain in the castle past the earliest rays of sun I will take his life." Her voice leaves little in the way of doubt. "He has threatened the only things left on this earth that I care about; he does not get to live, not near me."

I know that she is right. I had itched with it, felt the urge to send ice through his body just as I had done Hans. The difference is that I know what it is to take life. I have done it. Simply as myself I have taken breath from flesh, become jury and judge and decided what moments would become a man's last. I cannot ever do such a thing again.

Last time it wrecked me; broke me down so surely I nearly bled out on the floor with little hope of ever rising again. I wept for days and still continue to on the bad nights. This man, this savage Viktor, will be sent away, but not killed.

I bark orders at guards as they pour in, more of them still worried for us and our loud voices and harsh tones. I warn that I need a ship prepared for a long journey as soon possible. Maybe I will send Viktor out in to the night. It is not as if letting him leave in the morning will be the one thing to hold off war, if The Southern Isles declare war they will do with in spite of any hospitality I offer.

One of them approaches me. Tells me that Viktor is frantic in his room, and that I can be secure in knowing he will be kept there, by force if necessary, until I order for him to be taken to a ship and returned home. I realize I will have to send men in to the fray, guards and diplomats to negotiate the return of Viktor. I worry for them.

The guard, his voice compassionate and understanding, assures me that he will oversee the preparation of the boat and the amassing of a capable crew. I thank him well.

Coming back to myself I realize that my hands are shaking and the dagger is still held fast in my fingers. Without pausing to consider why I makes me feel safe to have it as protection I bend down to slip it in to the side of my shoe, silently blessing my choice of sturdy boots this morning.

"I'm going to see him." I announce to the room at large, not able to look to my mother. It is in no way sensible, it is a bad idea to so much as lay a singular eye on him for the slightest of moments, but I have to say something, I need to make some sort of remark. I cannot let him leave thinking he has scared me.

I do not wait to see what Anna and my mother are sure to say, how viciously they are sure to object. My mind takes a narrow focus and I glide across the floors, my feet touching down for only the slightest moments and ice being left in a paper thin swirling trail behind me.

They won't be following me, I know they won't be. Anna will stay with our mother; she knows that she needs it most. She deserves her daughter far more than a deserve my sister right now. I can handle this man alone. I can manage, managing is my mantra, it guides me as I shining star and keeps me floating when I am all but sure I am about to drown.

As I begin to feel confident I come to his door. It is marked plainly by the six guards in front of it, all equipped with swords and hidden daggers, clever blades that fit perfectly between a raging mans ribs.

They ask why I am here. I tell them. They ask if I would like to be accompanied. I decline. They insist. I decline shorty, coldly. They insist once more and I refuse once more, assuring them that I have winter on my side and a dagger tucked in to my shoe. They look weary, and promise to listen well for signs of distress. I have the presence of mind to compose myself, seeing as clearly the guards have noticed my stress and I shudder at the thought of Viktor seeing he has sway over me, I push through the door.

It is as I expected a simple small room with little to mark Viktor's short stay. The man himself is sat in front of the fireplace. The slim patchwork of red brick lays filled with old ashes of winter. I thank that there is no need for fire now, not in the spring. Fire makes my world terribly unmanageable.

He looks at me, as expected, but his eyes trip me up, throw thickness in to the back of my throat. They are green, as I know them to be, but now they wear the look that had been exclusive to Hans until this moment. They are deranged, and angry, and willing to do whatever their owner deems necessary.

"Viktor." I speak first, regretting it but desperate to change his face with my voice. "I am sure you are aware that your behavior is unacceptable. Be as this is I have arranged for you to be returned to your people as a prisoner."

"I expected as much." He drones, somehow above me in his tone. "You realize this is not the end of it? I expect you know that too. In fact, you will find that there is little my parents have not managed to anticipate."

I refuse to bend to his intimidation. "With as much as your family has put me through you will understand that I shall not break. I have fought for that what I thought the ocean had taken. And I will continue to fight for my people and my county. This world has given me so much it would be vile to surrender without giving them back my soul, my dying breath even."

"You won't last." Viktor chides. "Look around you, it is spring. Winter is gone, over, done with. People don't _like_ winter. People _tolerate_ winter. You are going to give birth to my brother's heir. This will happen whether or not my family reclaims the child, which we will."

"Don't." I falter. "No, as much as there is Hans in my child there it me. It is _mine_. I will love it. I will hold it. I will nurse it. It will come to me when it has nightmares and will call my name when it scrapes its knees. This baby was never Hanses; he never had any claim to it. It was forced in to my arms. It was always, and will forevermore be, mine." I feel the steel of the dagger against my ankle, it shivers with frost. I could end him. I could eliminate this man and his insistence that I will not be strong enough for what needs doing.

"The girl." I remember his story. "That girl you mentioned, some dull peasant girl that your parents disapproved of, is she even real? Was she just some story, some false flag for you to wave and convince me that you were human?" I beg for her to be real. Plead with sanity that he humanizes himself with one told truth. I need a reason to keep his dagger out of my fist.

Viktor smiles. "A peasant girl? Marrying in to the royal family of The Southern Isles? Your reputation for a sharp mind, and tongue of the same nature, left me expecting a much more perceptive mind. But it was just so easy to lie, to make you believe so much."

"Is your entire family like this?" I ask, not expecting an answer, just baffled and scared by the terror that seems so thickly littered about the world.

"Only those of us that know what we want. Elsa, there are thirteen children and one title. We have to be willing to take. Frankly I'm surprised your little sister hasn't slit your throat yet, what with your idiocy."

I let him get to me. Maybe I wanted this. I could not have ended any other way. I came to him, to his room, knowing that there would be a moment when I would break.

In a flash I have ripped the dagger from my boot and pressed it tight to Viktor's neck. His hair is in my fist, balled up and tight, pulled back to force his neck out. He is vulnerable in my hands. I could end him, could silence him like I have Hans. My hand shakes and I watch slow swirls of ice pattern their way toward the glinting tip of the blade.

It did not help. When Hans was caught dead, ice having gouged out his chest, he did not leave me. I still fight him, every day he rears his head is some subtle relentless way. I am not a killer. I have killed once. I ended one man's life to ensure there would be one for my family, for my baby. I will not kill a second time simply to save myself from distasteful company.

Instead I whisper into his ear, let my rage be known in my furious voice. "I could do it. You would be powerless to stop me." I know that in this moment, it is the absolute truth. "It is, again, simply on my good graces that are you permitted to draw further breath."

Viktor grins and his hands make for my ankle. I kick at his side and let pin pricks of blood fall on to the dagger. "You are leaving before dawn. Do not make poor choices."

I leave the room at a stumbling run. The guards question me for a moment. I convince them I am fine and inform them of slightly altered plans. Viktor is to leave at the earliest opportunity. I am to be woken up when a ship and crew have been prepared. I do not care if it is long before the sun; I will rise to see Hanses retched brother leave my land.

* * *

**So? Can that make up for the absence? Please? Let me know if it was good enough with a review. **

**I promise that there will be a new chapter out on the 20th. If their isn't, riot, send me angry PM's, and leave crude links in the comments. Anything you feel is necessary. **

**-Whovian123**

**awesome: Thank you. Yes he is. **

**HansHater: A huge butt. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. This chapter is much less sister fun times. And we get a clear display of just how thoroughly Hans has tampered with Elsa. **

**NicPie: Thank you. Glad to see you are on team Kasper. I do hope he makes it back to Arendelle safely... **

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. Vicky didn't really make his way to tricks, I hope this is just as satisfying. I guess temper runs in the family? **

**chinaluv: Thank you. **

**David-3105: Thank you. All is good, updates are back on track. I hope there was enough action in this chapter to make up for the lack in recent ones. Also, Elsa is about 25-26 weeks along at this point, so birth isn't far off, but shouldn't be expected too soon. **


	80. Chapter 80

**Hello. I'm on time this week. Look at me, all back on a schedule and keeping to it. Don't let me slip, ok? **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

He left against the inky backdrop of night; seen off by only, myself, and several guards. The small crew found in the night and roused from their beds asked little in the way of questions and greeted me sorrowfully, knowing only that Viktor has committed grievous crimes against me and my family, not understanding the exact nature of such infractions or why they require such quick expulsion from the country.

I watch him with vehemence as he is carted from the castle and dragged abroad with his hands and feet bound. He meets my gaze, displays once more the green eyes that haunt me and burn me. He does not try to speak, and for that I am grateful, I doubt my ability to restrain myself another outburst. I came far closer than I ever hoped to be to doing terrible unforgivable things.

As the boat fades away and the sun begins to lighten the sky I realize how spectacularly tired I am. A whole night without managing so much as a wink of sleep, in spite of my nightmares this is a rare occurrence for me. A growing baby sapping my strength has drained me to my biases of thoughts. I pick my way back to the castle, flanked by several returning guards, one of whom attempts to offer me support when he notices I have acquired a slight limp and vaguely wavering step. I brush away the concern with talk of tiredness and omit the story of how I managed to cause quite a sizable gash in my ankle when I decided on impulse that it would be a wonderful idea to store a dagger in my shoe.

I concede that concealed weapons are not, and will likely never be, my forte. It comes as little disappointment when I know what my will is capable off.

Anna is waiting by the door when I reach it, leaning against the side with tight shoulders. Her face is stricken with worry and fear. I offer her what little smile I can manage, the distaste of the day weighing in my chest. "Mother wanted to stay up, I made her retire to bed. She was an exhausted wreck. I have never seen her like that." Anna worries her lip and brings her arms around her waist. She looks tired. "Kristoff came home, he was out, we need more and more ice every day into spring and he takes the brunt of the work onto himself. I made him go to bed too." She lets out a weak chuckle. "It is starting to feel as if we truly are the two most in control of ourselves, left to parent the others under our roof."

"I just wish there was a great deal less of that which tries to tear us apart." I groan at the stars, plain and tired with the near constant battles.

"Of course you wish it, I wish it too, as does mother, and all sensible people, but we are all the stronger for it and will come to know peace in." Anna demonstrates the maturity that she keeps carefully hidden and lovingly wrapped under her perceived naivety.

It does not stop me from barreling forward in to all that might still come to happen. "Not yet. Not with what Viktor was saying, and not with what that letter from The Southern Isles said. If I am lucky there shall be war, if I am not, there shall be slaughter."

"You forget yourself sister," Anna breaks away from the door shaped patch of light and joins me in my slow panic in front of the castle, "that you have winter on your side. Armies can amass, and Kings can call, but little will not be stopped by a wall of ice and snow. Not a single man from our nation need die, you conjured marshmallow, do you not remember?"

"I can't bring life on will Anna, I don't understand Marshmallow, or Olaf, they defy me and what I believe myself capable."

"You would be able to bring about a hail of steel ice swords if the occasion truly called for it." My infallible sister insists. "I have no trace of doubt that you will see us through this petty clash and that it will end with The Southern Isles crouched down, with their tail between their legs."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

I steer the topic away from that which is unsolvable right now. I do not need to worry about any of that. I need to worry about my sister, and how she hasn't gotten any sleep tonight. "Anna, go to bed. It's late, or rather, very early, and tomorrow has the potential to go any which way." I don't think I trust calm days anymore. Being able to sit throughout a day and worry for nothing has become an abstract idea that lives in the shallow idealized center of my brain not yet tainted by the bundle for anxiety tumbling around.

Anna chuckles and lays a light hand on my stomach. "That coming from the mummy-to-be. You need more sleep than any of us, but it seems you get the least." She and I walk back inside, her leading my stumbling and giving me a shoulder to cling to when my ankle stings and I lose balance. "Do you and your baby a favour and get to bed, now, and don't worry about getting up early, I'll force myself up with the gulls and take care of anything that arises."

"I can't let you do that, Anna; you wouldn't get more than two hours sleep, at the very most." I hobble through the hallways, realizing now that Anna has unwittingly led me to my bedroom.

"Then you best get in bed right now and agree to my terms, because I will be up with the birds regardless of you and I shall not take one more step toward my bed until you are in your own." Anna uses the one trigger she knows I will never risk harm on, herself.

I do not attempt to call her bluff, do not even consider it. I concede, nearly relieved that I have been commanded to drop out of the world for a day, to be just myself with my baby and let other people take care of my mess. Perhaps it is a symptom of never having lived out a proper childhood.

Anna nudges me though my door and I relent, letting my tired feet and weight drag me forward to my bed, my ankle causing the journey to be rather lopsided. I call back a weak goodnight to Anna and she asks me if I need anything. I tell her I am fine and that she needs sleep just as much as me, after that I listen to her lilting chuckle and then the sound of my door being closed gingerly.

My body tells me that I need to change and I manage my way in to a loose nightdress, sighing at the light fabric as it is juxtaposed with the thick constricting stiff stuff of my day to day activities. I ignore the slapdash bandage job on my ankle, telling myself that it will not fall off in the night and that bandages can be redone in the morning. My legs ease off the ground and I groan into my bed, loving the weightless sensation in the souls of my feet.

Curling around my stomach I come to sleep. It lulls me in slowly and I race after it, cradling my baby in my arms, trying to feel it and love it before I have the chance for a proper meeting. Right now it feels as if it must be the most important thing in the world. I have already killed for it, and would have again if Viktor called for an ultimatum.

* * *

I wake up just as slowly as I drifted to sleep, with an eager sense behind my thoughts, but the knowledge that they will progress as they would, nothing on my part can effectively speed things along or slow them down. My body seems to have heard Anna well enough and I am privy to only the slightest bars of silken sunlight streaming through my window for a moment before I shut my eyes again, turn over, punch the pillow, and go back to sleep, ignoring totally; the birds.

The second time I wake up I come to more fully. It is to the slight pressures in my stomach, what I recognize to be the weak fetal kicks of my baby. It comes as an inside out sort of adventure, this blind wonder about what is happening and what my baby is doing, and if they have any concept of doing it.

Letting out the most satisfying yawn I turn from my back to my side, having tossed throughout the night, but, most miraculously, not having suffered from crippling nightmares. Blinking in the face the bright window I set myself upright, feet hanging off the bed and hands curling into loose fists set on rubbing the sleep from my eyes. There is a bazar satisfaction in letting myself sleep until I know I could simply not anymore, it is a feeling I am elated to be feeling again.

My stomach adds to my chorus of wobbly, stretching, morning moans with thick gurgles and the snapping ache of hunger. "Ok, ok, ok." Abandoning my eyes my hands come to rest long slow strokes against my restless child. "There is just no winning with you; I sleep so long you make me miss breakfast and then when you do get me up you demand food without a moment's hesitation." I set about getting dressed, finding a simple wide dress my mother had fished out of storage for me, and then making my way swiftly through the corridors in search of an early lunch in the dining hall.

As I come through the doors I find that I may had slept later than I realized, for Anna, mother, and Kristoff are set in place for lunch and piling plates with fragrant food. "There you are." Mother's voice lilts with concealed worry. "I was going to bring you a tray if you didn't find your way here within the hour."

"Thank you, but a feast in bed would have been simply too much; I would have been compelled to spend the rest of the day, and early hours of the night, hard at work in my study just to compensate for my early morning uselessness, and I do intend to avoid that today." I settle into the nearest chair and heap, with abandon, piles of whatever food is within my reach on to my plate.

"You will be pleased to note, "Anna chimes in with a singsong voice, "that the castle and country have not fallen apart in my short morning rule. I do hope this encourages you to take more time for yourself, as I am sure you will be needing it soon."

"She's right." Mother insists, putting on the most elegant display for normalcy, which comes as rather a shock having seen the crescendoof her breakdown yesterday. I can only hope she had a manageable night. "I had you and Anna in short time, and my mother was the same with me. Our family has no patience for wombs." She explains, gesturing, with her fork, to my expanding stomach. "That bundle of trouble will be out in due time. Whatever the doctors tell you, be sure to expect several weeks less."

Kristoff pales at the talk of women and wombs and lets out a slight squeak, undoubtedly feeling out of place amongst the sea of women in the castle. The ice harvester turned prince seems to have little in the way of human friends, he cherishes his family, frequently visiting Grand Pabbie and the other trolls, but makes no mention of friends beyond Sven. I had seen, on occasion, him warming up to Kasper, they would band together at times, lonely men holding what ground they could manage against my mother, Anna, and I.

"Surely something has happened this morning that is more interesting that garbling on about when I may have my baby." I insist between greedy mouthfuls of succulent pork. "Some letter perhaps, anything of the sort."

"Nothing from the Southern Isles, if that is what you were getting at." Anna says. "Nothing from your mysterious northern prince either." She grins cheekily and her tone takes a note of theatrics.

Heat dashes across my cheeks and up my neck, burning slowly. "Well." I remark. "I guess that is rather expected." Embarrassed for myself and my secrets in the presence of my mother and Kristoff I duck my head and focus on eating.

"It will come soon enough." My mother chimes in, initially I worry that she has brought up my baby once more. "He will send a letter. Men don't worry the way women do, so they don't think to send letters right away. It is reasonable to worry about a man at sea, sailors vanish every day."

"Mama." I chide, far too embarrassed to look her in the eye. "I don't know what you are under the impression of, but I am simply waiting on the news of safe passage from a friend." All the while I begin to panic, one more, about the perils of the sea.

"And I," she declares loudly, having now finished her own lunch and taking her leave to wherever she may wish to lurk, "am waiting on four white doves each with a tale of valiant dragon slayers and a pouch of fairy dust." Her steps fade away and I am left worrying that I have lost all ability to hide my emotions underneath the surface, to let them fester and boil with the ice and snow.

"Was it really all that obvious?" I ask. "Or have you been fluttering from ear to ear whispering my secrets for the world to hear?"

Anna turns indignant and sighs. "I may jest but I jest about nothing that is not already known. You can hide a great deal, Elsa, but you cannot, nor can any other, hide something as pure as love."

"I wouldn't call it that." I insist. "And you better stop hinting, Kristoff is still here. I can't have my Official Ice Harvester and Deliverer spreading stories throughout his ranks."

"But it _could_ be that, It can grow and thrive, if you let it, and really, that's all you need. There is a twinkle in your eye and a smile upon your cheek, even if your mouth lays restless where it should." Anna insists. Her knowledge of love seems abstract and different to me. I wonder and worry that perhaps we love in different ways.

"Whatever it may be." I implore, chancing a glance up from my meal long enough to send Anna a meaningful gaze. "It is not love. It can't be, not yet, probably not ever."

* * *

**There you have it. Some late night aftermath and a little breakfast/lunch fluff. **

**Next chapter will be out on the 25th and will likely cover some ground time wise, I can't wait to let you all know a bit more about Elsa's baby. **

**-Whovian123**

**skyfireflight16: Thank you. Yes, The Southern Isles do not seem to be the brightest bulbs, do they? I'm sure they will wise up, eventually. **

**NicPie: Oh yes, Elsa can more than hold her own, it's a matter of (gosh this is cheesy) her believing in herself. And yes, the baby is getting dangerously close chapter wise now. **

**David-3105: Thank you so much for sticking it out. I promise that I will do everything within my power to update on time, or as close to on time as possible, of course life can get hectic, and disasters strike, but baring those I will be on time. **

**chinaluv: Dang indeed. **

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. It was a trill to write Idun losing it like that, and any opportunity to threaten Vicky is a pleasure. **

**Kathy22334: Yes, they do really want the baby. Maybe it has ice powers, maybe not... Maybe The Southern Isles has thought of that, maybe not. **


	81. Chapter 81

**Hello everyone. Look, another on time update. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

Several weeks draw by, slowly as they possibly dare. I fall into the habit, at Anna's most earnest request, of sleeping in. It comes as a marvellous relief to meet my bed knowing that I will not be faced with an early morning of paperwork and trade disputes, but will rather be left to deal with all that in the afternoon, if Anna has not made her way through the bulk of it.

After my first lie in it came to me as a shock when I later made my way to my study and found stacks upon stacks of incorrectly filled and filed agreements and documents. I made short work of fixing them and then tracked down my wandering sister to explain to her that it would perhaps be best if she left the routine running of the kingdom to me and dealt with only the critical emergencies that where liable to arise unexpectedly in the morning.

Anna insisted, as is her nature, to be as useful as possible and then instructed me to teach her all I know about trade agreements and the barebones paper running of our small little world.

So we sat, and late in to the night I taught her all I was taught throughout my bout of adolescent isolation. I explained what I could remember from brief interactions with tutors that eventually deemed their job too dangerous and were sent away with large amounts of wealth on the promise of sealed lips. I struggled to remember, and then found myself crawling through the library searching for them, the books that I had read and what was in them. There are books of strategy, books of trade, books of politics and how to navigate them, and books on war and how to avoid it, or in the worst of cases; to fight it.

Anna learned far better than I ever did, seeming excited and trilled at the possibility of knowing just what goes on behind my study door and within my head. She asked questions I could not answer and together we flipped further through books than I ever managed on my own. It was not until she yawned that I realized just how exhausted I was. Once aware we would retire, Anna leading me back to my room and seeing to it that I got enough sleep to function.

We fell into the habit of staying up too late studying increasingly unrelated things throughout the weeks. Straying ever further from the realms of politics and trade and further in to charting stars and the finer points of the perfect soufflé, anything to extend our lull, to continue our simple monotonous routine.

It became a joy waking up to done work and knowing that it had been done well. Anna had a gift for it, seeming to have forced the awakening of some morning worker within her that clashed so fully with the tried, late sleeper I had known her to be.

So it came as rather a surprise when, four weeks after Viktor had been sent back to his people, I was woken long before a casual noon breakfast, which I had begun to love, by Anna whispering my name and setting herself carefully on the edge of my bed.

I roll over to meet her gaze, settling my head into the unused side of the pillow and enjoying the starkness of it. Then I remember that Anna is to get me in the event of a proper emergency. "What happened?" I stammer though sleep. "Is everyone ok? Are you? What about Mama, and Kristoff? Hans isn't back, he can't be, he can't be…"

"No, no, no." She assures, her face dashing from excitement to worry. "Dead men lie beneath the ground. Elsa, he will never come for you, not ever."

I nod. Coming out of the fog of sleep I am reminded of reality and the reality of death, the finality of my victory and the safety in my home. I remember the family I have surrounding me and the patch of peace I have been graced with before The Southern Isles has the chance to declare war of send another of their brood to steal my baby.

"Rather, it is good news I have." Anna brings me back. "A special letter has arrived for you on this kind spring morning and I suspect you will find the writer most agreeable." She waves a thick envelope in front of me and smiles. "That prince seems to be alive and well, or at the very least, alive. I cannot guarantee anything of the well doing sort. You will have to read for yourself."

I take the letter and Anna chances one more knowing smile before excusing herself and seeing to the finishing of her breakfast. For a moment a wonder if I should eat, but quickly realize that the tumbling turning of the butterflies in my stomach will be too much to bear during a meal.

I break the wax seal and Kaspers letters slide out of the envelope, each one parting the air as if held in his breath. It brings the shameful kind of unstoppable smile to my face to see his writing, sprawling and slanted, inked out across page after page of paper.

My morning becomes a mess of watery laughs, my wracked and tired mind trying to reach a sense of catharsis as it is assaulted by the worlds of Kasper. His rambling letter assures me that he is safe. He assures me that he is well. He tells me of his journey, of the little unimportant things that have no place in a causal letter of affirmation between friends. I read about how the moon looked on one particular night, the way it was bright and clear and big in the sky, too big for Kasper to accept. I am told about the food and how it all became stale and mouldy during a rainstorm when one particular crew member forgot to secure one door. They managed to make it home on a small store of dry crackers and strips of beef that were left in a blessedly dry room on accident.

I trace the lettering and hear his voice in my mind as the words pass under my fingers. I read about how Kasper is coming back. He warns me that he shall be once again in Arendelle within a months' time, his family seems to be rather unimpressed with the absence he has taken during the winter. I learn that his older brother has taken on large responsibilities of the kingdom as their parents have come in to failing health. Also, it is confided in me that Kasper's country is far more than willing to negotiate a trade agreement as they have little in the way of global relations.

It comes to my massive relief to know that all it well with Kasper and that I shall be seeing him in little time. I tuck the letters under my pillow, determined to keep them close at hand and deciding that they are strictly personal and shall not be read by any other.

I smile to myself and enjoy the warm swelling in my chest as I ready myself for the day, my early start will have me at the dining hall in time for a real proper breakfast with the rest of the castle inhabitants, my mother, and Anna, perhaps Kristoff if his workload is light, which it rarely is. The walls do seem rather too big for my family. I assure myself that soon enough we will have the wildcard of my baby to worry for and that the halls may not seem quite as empty then.

Anna casts me sideways conspiratorial glances all through my heaping breakfast, I am particularly hungry today, and follows me out of the hall after all is said and done, leaving our mother and Anna's own husband to stiff chatting. "Are you going to tell me?" She asks, her voice lilting into higher tones than strictly necessary.

"Tell you what?" I play dumb.

"What your prince said in those letters of his, or, perhaps, what it is you intend to send back." Anna plays along, letting me get to what I will and will not say in my own time. There have my enough incidents in the past for her to now know that it is not ever wise to push me.

"He wished me good health and confirmed his own. He told me his trip, while bearable, was not the most pleasant due to a food related miscommunication. Also he has told me that he shall be returning within a months' time." I concede and decide that it matters little what Anna knows of us, for she is wily and clever. Little remains unknown to her for long.

"Will you be writing back?"

"I rather don't know what there is to say, of course I miss his company, but he shall be back before long, and the letters may not even reach him in time. He could be out at sea and miss them entirely." I try to justify my reluctance. I miss him, I miss him immeasurably, and that thought scares me more than anything else has in the last while. I knew what I was afraid of before, it was clear and laid out, and perfectly sane. Hans was a danger and I feared him rightfully so. Now it feels as if I might be fearing the one thing that I will come to need, and perhaps it is that need that scares me most of all.

"I didn't expect so, a greeting in the flesh will be more than enough to make up for absent letters." Anna muses, walking with me now to my study. "It was sweet of him though, there seemed a fair stack of paper within that envelop, he must think of you often."

I nod, not quite willing to think about them now, knowing that there is much I have to do and being as I am now awake and with time to do it I can give Anna a well-deserved day off. So as I make my way to my study I attempt to bid her farewell, but she follows. Rather, she insists that she tackle the paperwork with me, as "half as much time is needed with two" and "we can be out in the spring sun before lunch if we work together."

I agree.

Then we work, and it's startlingly fun. We laugh, and I'm happy. Kasper is safe, my sister is marvellous, my family is whole, and the world makes blessed sense. We finish in record time, or perhaps it is that there is sparing work and we did not realize.

Leaving behind the piles of managed work we stow away to the outside. We are met with an overcast world with heavy gray clouds blotting out the sky and the mountains, and patches of spitting rain here and there.

"Perchance," I turn to Anna, "talk of spring sun was a slight exaggeration, or all together wishful thinking."

"Nonsense," she insists, "it's still there, above the rain and the clouds; we just can't see it."

I nod.

We set out toward the town anyway. The rain is mild and completely tolerable. Anna tells me she does not mind it, and it leaves little effect on me for I do not feel the chill.

Townspeople mill about under roof edging and beneath large gazebos that would have housed market stalls on a better day. We talk with several people, a short man smiles at us and tips his hat and several women come up to me and explain all of the many complicated and overwhelming things I simply must do upon returning home to ensure that my baby will be happy and healthy, then it is suggested, or more likely, subtly demanded, that I get out of the rain or risk illness.

Anna puts on a strained polite smile and rushes the women along on their way, siting lonely children and hungry husbands, both in need of a midday meal. I thank her quietly as we stray away to the outskirts of town, more so into the fields and fjords.

The steel-gray clouds cleave the tops of the mountains off as over-sized swords. We enjoy the scenery for a while more, it having taken on a detailed heaviness in the weather that the sun never affords it, before my hunger gets the better of me and I ask if we might return to the castle for a rather early diner. Anna agrees easily, seeming to just now be truly feeling the bite of cold in her bones.

Dinner becomes an afterthought once we are back within the caste walls and privy to the hushed panicked whispers dashing about the castle. Worry envelops my heart as we come, once more to the dining halls. Kristoff is nowhere to be seen, but Mother is there, and Mother looks far more worried than I ever care to see again. Worried Mother means bad things, many bad things which I had just gotten used to not having to deal with.

"You got a letter." She offers; this aiding little in the uncovering of her worry.

"Yes, this morning, from Kasper." I deadpan, not hopeful enough to believe that this is the letter she speaks of.

"You know very well that this isn't about that boy." Mother snaps at me and Anna. I can see now that her hands are shaking and clasped tight around a crisp white envelope. I ignore the wax seal, already knowing it to be that of The Southern Isles.

"Can it wait until the morning?" I chance, doubtful that the world will extend me such grace.

"We could...," Mother starts, "perhaps, pretend that, instead of being delivered at noon, due to a small sorting error, that it was, in fact, only recovered in the early hours of tomorrow morning." She finishes, looking up from the letter and then handing it over to me.

I take it, and feel its weight. Then I set it aside and sit down. "So did everyone else have as wonderful a day as I?" I start; surveying the surprised faces of my mother and sister. "Anna, go get that husband of yours, track him down, he must be somewhere. We are going to have a nice dinner, and then a nice evening. Who knows what could happen tomorrow, any number of letters could arrive and bring with them storms."

Mother smiles and me as does Anna as she jumps from her stationary staring and races to find Kristoff.

* * *

**Did you like it? I promise next chapter will be big and filled with the plot.**

**Also it will be out on the 30th.**

**-Whovian123**

**David-3105: Thank you. I am from Canada (How aboot that, eh?). There is a graph on one of the stats pages on my account that lets me see where my readership is from. The bulk of my readers are from English speaking countries such as the U.S, Canada, and the U.K., but there are also a fair number of Germans and other non-native English speakers. **

**Sophisticated Grace: Ohhh, come back have you? Nice to know I managed to draw back some a the readership I lost having killed Hans. It's actually rather strange, because I don't consider this a dark fict, it has mature and dangerous themes, but I can think of so many ways to make it so much worse. Oh well. I'm glad to see you back. **

**artilyon-rand: Thank you. Also... Too late... **

**NicPie: Thank you. There was a bit of a time jump in this chapter, and I believe it puts Elsa at about 30 weeks, so there really isn't long now, not long at all... **

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. I'm rather excited for Elsa's baby too. I've been waiting to write it for a while now, as this was always part of the plan since day on of the fanfic. **


	82. Chapter 82

**Hello. Nice to see you all again. I'll let you get to it then.**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

When I wake up in the morning it is to the knowledge that I have a dreadful letter from a regrettable nation waiting to ruin my day. My arms twist and burrow deep under my pillow, coming to close around the creased words of Kasper. I pretend to draw strength from them, convince myself that the world is kind.

I get up.

Then I get dressed.

My feet and ankles protest as they are set on the ground and bound to endure another day of my comical weight and size. The small of my back weighs thickly and protests my barreling forward into yet another day of standing and moving. In front of my door I take a beat to breath. Sucking in stale warm air that seeps everywhere during the spring I rub my distended belly, longing vaguely for the days when I marveled, foolishly, at slight curvatures, surprised by how much and how quickly a human body could change and adapt. I chuckle, how naïve I was, for I have ballooned rather extremely.

"You," I mutter to my stomach, "have no idea what I have done to keep you, and you aren't even here yet. Can you imagine," I bite my lip and sigh, "the things I will do for you once I meet you properly. I can't imagine I'll ever put you down." A small laugh slips out. "Not even once you're grown." I open the door. "Now let's go see what fresh hell is knocking on the door now? Shall we?"

Anna meets me in the dining hall, seeming to have fallen into the habit of early mornings. "Hello." She greets me, morbid. "Pleasant morning?"

"I expect about the same as you." I reply, how good can a morning be when there is little hope for the rest of the day. "Have you seen mother?"

"I checked on her this morning." Anna explains. "She was still asleep, and if she isn't having nightmares I let her be, she still doesn't sleep enough." I feel a flash of guilt, having been so consumed by my own ability to sleep that I forgot how totally destroying nightmares could be.

"Shall I open it then?" I speak to the letter on the table. It is exactly where I pushed it aside yesterday, not having been touched or moved for any reason. It was treated as if it did not exist. It was a pleasant thing to imagine.

"We have to." Anna confirms. Her nimble fingers reach down and snatch up the envelope. She turns and hands it to me; it is addressed with my name after all, _Her Majesty Queen Elsa of Arendelle._ I swallow my fear and force a light smile, figuring that if I smile on the outside some of it might leak inside. It does not work.

I break the wax seal and make short work of the reading.

_Dear, Her Majesty Queen Elsa of Arendelle, _

_My son, Viktor, has been most ungraciously been returned to my kingdom under the pretense that he overstepped a certain boundary. I have also been informed by my son that you do not intend to release the only heir of The Late Prince Hans Westergard of the Southern Isles. Due to the murder of The Late Prince Hans Westergard of the Southern Isles I feel that the only appropriate recourse, short of war, is the relinquishing of what remains of the Late Prince. _

_ Due to your reluctance and difficulty we, The Crowned King and Queen of the Southern Isles, have arranged and began preparing a short visit to Arendelle as means of persuasion and an assurance that the heir in question is safe. The Southern Isles is to be obeyed and shall not restrain from the use of force under further mal-treatment. _

_ \- King Frederick of the Southern Isles _

I pass the letter to Anna. "I thought it was going to be war." I confess. "I honestly thought there would be battle, and blood, and it would be my fault that thousands died." I panic, remembering that there is the light threat of war in the letter and that perhaps my world shall still be precarious after all.

"Good." Anna mutters. "Good. I shall enjoy having words with those entitled royals, sending man after man here to deal with this imagined problem. It's disgusting and I shall enjoy cussing and hollering and the face they make when they realize just how truly they have made a mess of their relationship with us."

"Anna." I warn.

"Elsa." She shoots back.

"Oh fine. I'll tell mother about this, you go… have some fun, or something of the sort. No more work, at least not today, I can't imagine doing anything more than napping and cannot bear to force you into more work without me. I feel less your sister and more your work master."

"It's no bother, truly… but, if you insist, I am sure I can find something lighter to do, seeing as there is true spring sun today." Without another word Anna is out the door and rushing through the halls, likely in search of Kristoff, or some sort of quick adventure.

I make my own way through different halls, wandering in a roundabout path to my mother, not all that eager to wake her up if she is in the position to catch up on needed sleep. While passing by the library I notice a melting trail of snow. Intrigued I chance a quick glance in the library itself and see Olaf set upon a chair, slowly covering the stiff rosy fabric with a fine powder of snow.

"Olaf?" I ask. "What are you reading?" The snowman is holding an oversized picture book in front of his face and excitedly rocking his feet back and forth.

"Oh, Elsa." He calls, seeming to be utterly thrilled with whatever it is that he has been reading. "I was wandering through the castle, and I realized that I had never been in the library, and there was this book, I saw it in the shelf and knew that I had to read it. It's a little tricky, I'm not all that good at reading, but there is a princess, and she has long hair, and there is a man that keeps coming to see her. Ohh! And there is a witch. I'm not sure how it will end, and it's taken me a while to read this far." His eyes turn downcast and his smile falters for a moment, only a moment, and then he reignites again. "Would you read it to me? Please, oh, please, Elsa?"

"Well…" I tease the snowman. "I guess I have a little time. I was going to go tell my mother some important news, but I'm not sure I can say no to you." I jump on the opportunity to forget about the letter for just a while more and afford my mother those last precious minutes of sleep.

I walk in and take the book from his hands, then nudge him over a bit in the oversized chair. He fits neatly on to, what is left of, my lap, and I begin to read. Halfway through the text I realize that I rather fancy this as practice for the future. I suppose there will be bedtime stories for my baby just as there were for Anna and me.

It comes as rather a violent realization that the baby inside of me will be on the outside all too soon. I never anticipated getting to this point in time; and much less so with the ability to live on with my family around me.

I will be a mother, a proper mother. My fingers curl tighter around the book and my voice strains for a moment before I recover with an unconvincing cough. Olaf does not mind. In fact I do not believe he notices. He simply listens and makes the appropriate sounds at the appropriate plot points, his eyes widening with panic as the witch nearly wins, and then softening when the princess and the man come together to defeat her.

As the book comes to a close Olaf leaps to the ground and rushes about selecting a small stack of more fairy tales which he pleads with me to read, his face a picture of innocent optimism. I cannot refuse him.

I find myself distracted with the words and the tales, they are easy and simple, flowing together in a way that wraps up and makes sense as real life never will. They lull me into their world, tugging at the seams of my mind and comforting me. Good wins, every time. The heroes have a certainty about them, a secret hidden knowledge that their slapdash, impossible odds, plan will work.

Once the pile of books dwindles down to the final pages of the last story Olaf seems to be satisfied. He praises my convincing villain voices, assuring me that I have the most frightful witches crackle, and then sprints out the door shouting about a feverish search down in the city for more fairy tales.

I let him leave, secure in the assumption that he will find something or other to distract himself with once there and will not miss me, as I am now rather late in the waking of my mother.

Leaving the library I slip my hand into my lose pocket, having stowed the Southern Isles letter away as I greeted Olaf, the poor snowman has little knowledge of politics and cannot be expected to understand the tension in such situations as this. The paper is smooth and I pull it out, looking, once again, at the lettering.

Coming to my mother's room I place a hand and an ear against the door and listen quietly for any sounds of wakefulness. There is nothing but the whispering, possibly imagined, sound of slow rhythmic sleeping breaths. The doorknob shudders as I twist it, and the door creaks, but after a moment of sharply held breath I can see that mother is still rather deep in sleep.

I creep up to her bed and see that her face is calm. It does me a great deal of joy to see her without deep lines of worry etched across her face. Lying, surrounded with billowing blankets, she seems younger by many years. She is once again the woman I remember from my youth, before my world turned sour and I abandoned society.

Setting myself on the edge of her bed, trying my very best not to weigh it down and set mother off balance but needing very much to take some weight off my aching feet, I set a hand in her hair. I wonder how long it has been since she managed a night as well as this one. Then I feel guilty all over again, that old guilt that boils up and reminds me she could have been free sooner if I did everything right, if I had been strong enough in the beginning.

"Mama," I whisper feather light, hoping, almost, that she does not wake up. I would love to let her sleep even further in to the ever deepening day. "Mama, you need to wake up soon, it's well past noon by now." Her shoulders shift and she lets out a low groan.

"Elsa?" She stammers, her hand coming to rub each eye in succession. "Elsa, why are you up so early? Have you read the letter?"

I let out a quiet chuckle. "The question is, why are you sleeping so late?" I chide. "You seemed to have managed a very good sleep indeed. I take it you are well rested?"

She nods, and then gets to the ever present point. "The letter? Did you read it without me?"

I nod in turn. "It wasn't as bad as it could have been, really." I hand it to her, letting her sit up and tear though the words. "It's just them, and how they are sending more people over here. It's the King and the Queen this time. They made a small mention of war, but I am starting to believe that they may want to avoid it; perhaps there is another scandal of sorts, of a lack of resources to fight. Whatever it may be, I am glad."

Mother finishes with the letter and hands it back to me. "I rather hope this is the last time we have some diplomat sent over to try and lay claim to my grandchild."

"I am hopeful." I say. "I really do think that this will be the last time, whatever happens, be it good or bad, it feels like the last time."

* * *

**So? Let me know what you thought. I'll have a new chapter out on the 5th. **

**Review responses will be out later today. **

**-Whovian123**


	83. Chapter 83

**Hello all. Nice little chapter here. I promise next weeks will be longer, much longer, I have a lot of action planed. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer****: I do now own Frozen. **

* * *

As the weeks drag by I made the appropriate preparations, and in doing so effectively force myself to forget about the two ships likely sailing their way toward me, and the passengers they will bring. I dedicate all spare moments to cultivating a nursery.

The room next to mine is near hollowed out to begin with, furnished with only peeling green walls, thick billowing drapes, and a dusty single bed. With Anna and Mother's help I clear out the bed and burn the drapes, deeming them too damaged and too ugly to ever repair. With the room gutted painting is made easy, a fresh coat of green would not do, there is too much negativity attached to green in my mind. Anna helps me settle on a blue so pale it is mistaken for white. I worry for a moment that I should have picked something more gender natural, but decide that the pale ice blue will do far better than any sharp yellow. Walls can be painted again if my baby decides they prefer a different hue.

Mother surprises me with the gift of a long ago stored away crib dragged from the murky corners of a storage room. She tells me that it used to be Anna's and before that, mine. I trace the fine carved crests along the wooden posts, loving the soft colours set atop a pearly white base. It seems almost right that my baby will sleep there, as if it were meant to be and no force in the world could have left it be any other way, or perhaps I have been feeling the stress and tiredness more acutely over the last few weeks.

Not to be outdone Anna gifts me an array of small smocks and tiny shirts and miniature pants, things which I know I will soon come to sorely need but had never managed to work up the nerve to buy. I, of course, furnished the bulk of the room myself, taking short trips down to the town and acquiring inoffensive trinkets of all sorts, my favorite of them being a small twisted glass snowflake that serves little purpose to a child, I imagine that it might have started its life as a paper weight of sorts.

One day, on my own; Anna and Kristoff having decided to take a day long picnic in the mountains and mother insisting that she needed to be out and about in the spring sun, I lug down from the attic, with many a break, a cushioned rocking chair. In the back of my mind there is an image, an image I cannot abandon, of me, with my baby nestled in my arms held close to my chest, late at night, utterly calm and peaceful. We would exist outside of the world for those rocking moments, nothing would be able to affect us, and we would be safe. I want my baby to always feel safe.

It fits in rather well, the carved pine and the disproportionate cushions. I like it and spend the rest of my day curled up in it, letting myself enjoy the room in a subtle calmer way that almost scares me.

* * *

Dinner is Mother and I, Anna still occupied with her mountain man on their mountain picnic. We pick our way through the meal and sit in the dining hall long after our plates are cleared away. I ask about nightmares. She tells me that she still has some, and I confess that it was actually a nightmare that prompted my sudden desire to have a, fully-fledged, nursery weeks before it could be put to any use. Hans has taken up residence in my mind once more, this time he has returned to warm me and taunt me about all the ways I am sure to fail in motherhood. The motherhood he forced that I never asked for.

"They stopped for a while." I tell, fingering the table cloth. "They do that, they stop and start, kind of teasing you in to thinking that it might all be alright. I suppose maybe one day they really well stop, or maybe they won't. I really don't know."

"I don't think they will ever go away." Mother's gaze is hard and convicted. "We have to live with them; have to keep sleeping though them. Let them play out, Elsa, let them become normal and learn to sleep though them."

I make a small noncommittal noise, rather inclined to vanquish the nightmares rather than relive them in this deceptive pattern until my last breath. Then I remember something Anna brought out a little while ago, and mentioned in passing while we were settling on paint for the nursery.

"Would you… Mama… not that I think you need it, or want to convince you one way or another… Because you are fine, and perfect, and I don't want to change you at all." I ramble toward my point. "It's just that… there are craftsmen down in the village, very good metal smiths and wood workers, and I am sure at least one of them might consider making… a prosthetic hand for you… If you felt like you wanted one, maybe just for sometimes…" I look at her nervously, already embarrassed and guilty for having brought it up.

"I…" Mother starts to say something and then decides against it, choosing instead to mull about with what she wants to say and ensure it comes out perfect, as is her way. "There are times, when that it what I want, those moments when you strap on a stick and blend in again. It's being normal, that's what I miss on the other side of all that debacle. Before, it was simple, I was the Queen, the same type of Queen there had always been, now I am the kidnaped ex-queen with one hand." She shifts her shoulders and brings her ragged stump to her chest, massaging it and thinking. "Other times, maybe it's bad, or maybe I'm just angry, but other times I want everyone to know. I want to shout about how terrible it is and never pretend that I am normal."

I make a stammering apology.

"No, Elsa, no." She retorts, not unkindly, but with enough force to catch my shifting gaze and keep it. "Do not apologize, not ever. Not for this. It's an arm. All things considered I did not receive the full extent of that man's anger. I thought I had. When I was splayed out on the floor of that ship, his sword chipping away at the bone; that was when I figured that no one would ever be in a more painful situation than me. But I am alive, and your father is not. I have my body, and you do not."

"No prosthetic then?" I ask. My arms come to cradle my stomach, having been reminded of my baby.

"I should think not. I shouldn't give myself the chance to hide it. I might get used to it, in time."

I nod.

After a short period of stress-less quiet in which the only audible sounds are breathing and imagined heartbeats, Olaf makes a loud blundering appearance. He groans an exaggerated attention grabbing groan and strolls toward me, letting his oversized head lead the charge.

"Elsssa!" He whines.

"Yes?" I ask, confused and on the verged of worried.

"I'm bored. I've done everything there is to do. I've read all the books in the library, or all the good ones, and I've learned to knit. Knitting! Elsa, there is nothing left to do in this castle." He climbs up my chair and sets himself on the edge of the table, growing around him a halo of pure white snow. "Kasper was fun when he was here. When is he coming back, he is coming back, right?" The snowman looks from Mother to me, eyes wide.

"Yes." I answer. "He'll be back soon."

"How soon?"

"Soon."

"Tomorrow, soon?"

"Not tomorrow."

Mother intervenes. "Maybe in a month."

"A month isn't soon." Olaf rolls back and lays flat against the table. "A month is forever."

"It will be a short month." I promise the snowman. "Don't worry, I miss Kasper too, he's become a dear friend of mine."

Mother smirks and lets out a quiet chuckle, her eyes turning pensive. I shoot her a good natured glare and remind the snowman that he was once told of treasure.

"I looked and looked." He sits himself back up and gives me a convicted look. "I couldn't find it anywhere; I even found Sven and made him look with me. I looked across all the mountains. I swear, there isn't any treasure."

"Did you ask the tolls? They might have help; they have been here longer than Arendelle." I mention, storing away in the back of my mind that I will have to arrange for a trinket of sorts to be discreetly planted on a mountain side.

Olaf makes a long squeaking noise and throws himself off the edge of the table and hits the ground at a sprint. Snow sprays everywhere, not affecting me, but causing my mother to splutter and flinch away from the cold. I let out an awkwardly stifled laugh.

"Sorry about that." I wipe furiously at the snow on the table and hazard a gesture at my mother's dusted shoulders. "It's the only way to keep him around, he almost melted once. I rather like his company by now, he has a way of being honest and light."

"It still shocks me when I see him." Mother rubs the chill from her arm. "A real living breathing snowman, made only of snow-."

"And magic."

"Yes, and magic." Mother smiles at me. "He isn't even a person, not a man made of flesh, and you manage him so well. I suppose you did make him, rather fancy you are his mother then." She eyes me with a sideways smirk. "And you were worried about that baby," she points to my stomach, "when you have that baby out there causing mayhem." She points toward the door.

"Olaf can manage himself. He doesn't need to be watched, or fed, or taken care of. As childish and naïve as he is, he isn't a proper child." I busy myself standing up and putting my chair back in place, perhaps a little too precisely. "I should go arrange to have something waiting for him up the mountain, something from the blacksmith maybe."

"Might I join you? I spent all day out and cannot bear the thought of being kept in for what will surely be a wonderful evening."

I nod and we walk. We take a roundabout route to the city, leaving though the back door and enjoying the gardens. The flowers are all blooming furiously, competing with one other to be all the more vibrant than any other. Together they make a marvellous and confusing mosaic that comes together remarkably well.

Outside the gates of the palace the wind blows soft and carries with it the scent of flowers and spring. I breathe and breathe as much as I can, imagining that if I get enough of this spring air now I will not have to suffer the thick smoky mass that is the forge. Maybe Olaf will find himself stumbling upon a half buried set of twisted metal leafs, something simple that he can keep and love.

After securing the treasure and then entrusting it with Kia to place somewhere Olaf will invariably stumble upon it, we take a walk. I am not yet ready to go inside and Mother seems to be wrestling with the urge to speak. I let her take her time. If something needs to be said she will say it right, not quick.

As we crest the hill to father's grave, both of us having unintentionally decided that was the best place to be today, she breaks our silence. "Elsa," she starts, reaching out with her hand and stopping me with a light hand to the shoulder. "There was something I was thinking about, and, it's not all that comfortable to say, but I need to mention it and make sure you understand what you might be getting in to."

I shiver, not at the cold, to ward off worry and the foreboding sense of pain.

"It's just... Well… That boy, Kasper, Anna told be about what happened before he left, and it's been weighing on me, not you and him, or you and him together." She blurts out in a gush, worried she might have taken a misstep. I assure no such boundaries have been crossed, she is my mother. "It's, honestly, it's your baby I'm thinking about. Now, I don't expect you to go gallivanting off with any boy that shows his face, obviously, but… Well. If this Kasper really knows what he's getting in to that's fine, but he wouldn't just be a husband with you, he would be a father right from the beginning."

"Mama," I protest, "I've only known him a short while. I can't go thinking like that."

"But you have to," Mother insists, "this baby of yours will be born, and see you with this man, and he will be its father, that will be all it knows. You can't afford to spend time on a man where nothing will come of it, Elsa, not when it's time you should be dedicating to your baby. What if you spend five years traipsing around on this man's arm, and then you realize that he isn't what you fancy after all, and your little baby knows only him as father, what then? Would it be right to cut the only father figure they have ever known out of their life? Would Kasper be inclined to love a child he has no relation to? It's a gruesome thought, but Elsa, it must be considered. Unless you love this man, or know you will, should you be with him."

I stutter several times. "I wouldn't traipse." I manage lamely. "My baby is my priority. I won't abandon it, not for anything or anyone. And I... Well, I haven't talked a great deal with Kasper about my baby, or if he could manage being a part of its life…"

"When he arrives, it might even be less than a month from now, you must discuss it. By that time you will be well into the final days of your pregnancy. There won't be time to dally."

"I know."

* * *

**So? That's got to be an awkward talk to have with your daughter or mother, depending on what side you are on, eh?**

**Let me know what you thought and the next chapter will be out on the 10th (It will still be out if you don't tell me what you thought, but I'll be sad.)**

**-Whovian123**

**justapenny4yourthoughts: Thank you. I hope you enjoy it. **

**Sophisticated-Grace: Thank you. You're right, I suppose this fic did start off pretty dark. Never fear, Kasper will be back soon. It's going to be a mess of action. **

**NicPie: Thank you. Kasper won't die in a shipwreck... probably. Also happy belated birthday, I hope it was a good one.**

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. I'm not telling anything about the royal couple, but I have an interesting dynamic planned. And yes, there is a veritable sh*t storm brewing. **

**chinaluv: Thank you. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. No feisty Anna today, but maybe next time. I have a feeling, call it a writers hunch, that the Southern Isles might find themselves running out of options rather soon. The end is nigh. **

**David-3105: Thank you. Yes, I couldn't resist the cliffhanger. And, never fear, Olaf will be cropping up here and there. **

**Winter-Rose-of-Arendelle: Thank you. Elsa most definitely will not put up with whatever the king and queen have to say. And you might be right about a interesting dynamic, although unexpected ally might be a little far... but you never do know. **


	84. Chapter 84

**Hello, not really sure about this at all. I am massively out of my depth with a large portion of this chapter. You will understand what I mean by the end. **

**-whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen.**

* * *

A ship is coming, and they think it's his.

I had been woken by a particularly excited Anna this morning, she teased lightly and made me guess at whatever news she had. I did poorly, groaning in to the morning and the ache all through my legs and my abdomen.

I blame it on the weather. The air is thick with rain and summer storm.

Anna quickly grows tired of my mindless sleep-addled guesses and explains to me in too loud tones that there has been a ship spotted, and it fly's the flag of Kaspers northern nation. I nearly leap of my bed and dance across the floor, a rather overzealous reaction I flush at the thought of, but my back has other ideas and demands I take a moment to stay still sitting.

I make it to my feet eventually. Anna smiles a soft smile and tells me that breakfast is still waiting for me, if I care to partake. I reflect on the ache of hunger and decide that it is worth the trek. Anna takes my arm and guides me through the halls, sleep still coating my thoughts. She babbles about anything, filling the silence. I hear brief mention of Sven and his new saddle he refuses to keep on and the news that Olaf has in fact found my planted treasure. I smile at that.

Mother is waiting in the dining hall, her plate adorned with fruit and fresh bread. "Oh, Elsa," she coos, standing up and coming to meet my tired steps, "sweetie, you look awful, you should just stay in bed, it gets hard around this time, you don't want to be on your feet all day." She worries me over to a chair and sets me down.

"Mama," I groan, "I can't wait in bed all day, there are things I have to do, and yes, Anna has been a lovely help in past," I flash an appreciative smile at my beaming sister, "but there are some things that _must_ be done by the queen. No exceptions." I look to the food and persuade myself to select an apple; the prospect of eating has suddenly taken a repulsive shadow.

"Oh, really?" Mother drawls. "So this absurd stubbornness, really something I would expect more from Anna and not you, has not at all been brought on by the ship they spotted not a half hour ago?"

I look in to my apple, hopping that the mottled yellow and red might boost my energy or rub away the aches in my back. "It might be." I mumble, not possibly bothered to think up some lie or clever quip to change the subject. "Even without that, I have things to sign and trade to manage. The world will not wait forever." I insist, reminding my mother of the constant stream of new letters and treaties and how impossible it is to keep on top of; even with a sister.

"You are like a horse. You would run yourself in to the ground if we let you, promise me that you will fit in a decent sized brake, maybe even a nap… No, definitely a nap." She returns to her seat and her meal, satisfied with having said her piece and having exerted her authority as my mother. I vow to afford myself with a nap and start slotting around my schedule in my mind.

I make Anna promise to let me know how Kaspers ship is coming in and when it is about to dock, and then, with my apple clutched close to my chest, I make for my study, having decided that perhaps breakfast simply was not in the cards for me today. I cannot seem to find it in myself to eat, but know I must, if only to keep my baby strong.

The work is piled high and I start with the top and decide to work down, setting myself a sort of rhythm that occupies part of my brain as I read about a small nation and the goats cheese they have to offer. The rest of my mind wanders. Soon after, the rest of my mind follows. If runs after the wandering part under the pretense of retrieving it and setting it to task, although both halves know what they want to be thinking about.

As midday, and the wafting scent of midday meal, rolls around, I begin a staring match with my apple, wondering if I should attempt to force it down pre, or post, nap. Eager to take a moment to shut my eyes I opt for post. I scoot my chair to the plush armchair set beside the towering bookshelf, on account of the insistent pain in my ankles, and set myself in it.

Staring out the window I will myself to sleep, if only for fifteen minutes. My baby seems to have other ideas as they whirl about in my stomach, having apparently having decided to take up gymnastics. I hum and rub my stomach, if only to give myself to illusion of calming down the rambunctious child. Appearing to have succeeded I allow myself to be lulled in to my prescribed nap.

* * *

Anna wakes me up for the second time that day. She presses my shoulder lightly and brings me back to the reality of my study. I blink in the dim light, worried now for how long I may have slept and how tenacious the ache in my back is.

"How late is it?" I groan.

"Not that late, you did miss lunch and dinner though." Anna glances at the apple on my desk and nervously continues, "You need to eat something Elsa. I haven't seen you take a bite of anything all day." She takes the forgotten apple in hand and offers it to me, a pleading look on her face.

I take the apple, force myself to sit upright and behave as an adult, and eat the apple.

Anna sets herself down in the chair with me, ignoring the lack of space, and wraps me around the shoulders in a tight hug. "What was that for?" I ask between bites.

"You look like you need it." Anna explains, pulling me tighter still and causing my chest to bubble with warmth.

"Thank you." I manage. We sit for a moment and I continue to munch through the fruit while watching the window. The moon is out and painfully bright against the deep blue of the night. I wonder where the stars are hiding and then remember with a jolt that Kaspers boat was coming in. "Anna, did I miss Kasper? Is he here yet?"

She chuckles. "That was actually what I came to find you for. He isn't docked yet, but he'll be here within the hour."

I can't help but smile. It's not that I need him here; it's that everything feels so much easier with him. Although I do remember that I will need to have some difficult discussions with in the near future. I wonder if our meeting by the fjord is still expected by him. I wonder what I will tell him. He weighs in my chest like a stone, or rather, the uncertainty of him and what I want him to be next to what he wants to be.

"Shall I go down then?" I make to stand up but Anna pulls me back down.

"What? Elsa, you cannot be serious. You at yourself, you're dragging yourself around like you have all the energy in the world when it's clearly draining you. Honestly, I shouldn't have let you get out of bed today. You should have rested."

"Anna, I rested plenty. Did you not just wake me up from an all-day nap?" I argue lightly.

"Is this what I'm like?" My sister counters. "I've been told I'm stubborn, but am I really this stubborn. Does being stubborn run in the family? Actually, Mother is stubborn too. We are a stubborn family, how does anyone deal with us. Your baby is going to be one stubborn ball of joy." Anna puts her hands, palm up, toward the sky in exasperation and then puts her head in them, all the while still complaining loudly of the stubbornness in our genes.

"So you'll let me go down to the docks?"

"You're the queen," Anna grumbles, "and a stubborn one at that. I have no chance of stopping you, but I am going down with you." I nod. She helps me up and we make our way together, albeit rather slowly as I waddle furiously to keep pace. Anna keeps further smart remarks to herself after she mentions penguins and receives a scalding glare.

We get there as the boat sails into the harbour. My stomach drops at the sight of the flag and my heart picks up pace. I smile more than I should and find myself standing in a mess of men shouting and lashing the boat to the dock. The noise melts away. They don't matter, not right now. Right now there is Kasper, and the fact that he is safe. Nothing happened; there was no storm, no tragic ship wreck or battle at sea. He made it here safe, and he made it here before The Southern Isles.

As the walkway touches down he begins charging along it and on to the dock, beaming at me though a tick mop of sun-bleached brown hair and a dense coat of stubble. He shouts my name and my stomach clenches. He comes to a shuddering stop before me, his eyes are light and searching my face for the sign that it is ok to pull me close and hug me with abandon.

I smile and nod.

He reaches out and holds me tight, pressing me so close to him that I feel like I might fall in to him and his seeping warmth, it is not an unwelcome feeling. "I missed you." He whispers in to my hair. "I really really missed you. I came back as soon as I was able, my parents were not happy with me being gone so long, but I told them about you. They let me come back, I don't know for how long, hopefully forever."

As he mutters against my head I rub my cheek against the scratchy fabric of his shirt, working the smell of him in to my memory and vowing that I will never forget the way his arms feel and how I am so sure I would be on the floor without them.

"I missed you too." I offer lamely. "Viktor left, we sent him home when he got angry one night. He pulled a knife on us, but it's fine. We are all fine. And the King and Queen are coming, they still want my baby, they could be here soon, tomorrow for all I know." I gasp and hate myself for feeling like crying. Today has been strange and I do not feel myself. "I'm glad you got here before them." I confide.

"Me too." He returns.

"Very well." Anna announces with a forced cough and an amused but not to be trifled with tone. "This is adorable, honestly, it really is, but Elsa needs to get back inside, and then in bed. She is not well and needs rest, not just for herself, but also for her baby."

"Yes." Kasper stammers, stepping away from me as he takes in Anna and the grumbling sailors disembarking around him. "Of course," he turns to me, "you need to be inside, it's late, and you're pregnant, very very pregnant. Wouldn't want something to happen to you or your heir." He sets his hand against my back and points me towards the castle.

I insist that I am not a child and that I will be fine, if only everyone stopped worrying so much. Anna scoffs and Kasper keeps silent. Reluctantly I am forced to slow up our trio as my legs hurt and my stomach cramps. Doubled over I remark to myself that I have been falling terrible out of shape. I quickly remind myself that I am lugging around an entire child within my stomach.

Anna keeps a reassuring hand on my shoulder and Kasper offers to carry me if need be, insisting that my being well is motivation enough to find the strength. I shake both their concerns off and carry on though the castle gates, or rather, I convince myself that they have been placated while they worry quietly as opposed to aloud.

Mother is waiting for us at the entrance, eager to hear news of Kaspers safe travel and discreetly eyeing me when she thinks I am not looking to make sure I don't collapse on the floor. She greets Kasper and quietly asks Anna to retrieve something with her, leaving Kasper and I standing awkwardly in the hallway while I try to ignore a particularly persistent pain across my stomach.

"Look," Kasper takes my hands and stands in front of me, earnest, "Elsa, about tonight-."

"I remembered, I'll be there. I'll find a way to get down, don't worry. I'll be there."

"That's what I'm worried about. You are not well, and I know you are going to insist that you are, but it is clear to me that you should not have even set foot outside to greet me today. So we can reschedule our midnight beach walk for another time. Ok?" He begs of me while I refuse to meet his gaze. "Please, if not for yourself then for me and your baby just go to bed and stay in bed in till you feel better. I'll see you tomorrow; I can stay with you in your room all day if you need. I'll wait on you hand and foot, so long as you do your best to feel better."

I nod; defeated by my families insistence that I am ill, and the, once again, clamping pain in my stomach. Had I eaten much of anything today I would blame it on that, but with only an apple, bad food cannot be the cause.

Anna strolls back in to view along with mother and thy two entertain Kasper with light banter for a moment, him having dropped my hands but not having stepped away from me. My stomach cramps once more, so intensely this time that I stumble over myself and let out a low groan.

"Ok, Elsa, that's enough of this." Anna takes me by the shoulders and turns me toward my bedroom. "You need to be in bed before you pass out and hit your head on the floor."

She leads me through the halls of the castle all while I am too tired to think; it is an activity I seem to remember from earlier. She keeps up a light rant about my sleeping habits and tells me it's alright if I still have nightmares, I do still have them but my baby and general discomfort have been keeping me up much more than the nightmares are.

Eventually topics turn and Kasper comes up, as I know Anna is over involved in the sparse expanse that is my love life and will be desperate for the specifics of what was said while she was absent. I keep the details sparing and have to stop once to let a wave of pain pass, but Anna seems satisfied with my story.

At my door she implores that I rest myself as I ought to and begs me to take the entirety of tomorrow off from the stacks of paper work ignored today. I protest but Anna insists. She goes to open my door, and I make to walk through it, only to be stopped when I feel a peculiar feeling and then a stream of fluid running down my legs.

I worry for a moment that I have done something expected of a toddler, chalking it up to a spectacularly strange day and the pain in my stomach, but considering for a moment the area in pain and the presence of fluid a sudden obvious thought comes to mind. Anna looks down and then up at me in quick succession.

We both curse at the same time and being to panic.

* * *

**What an update for mother's day, eh? **

**Also, fair warning, I have never been pregnant, and therefore, have never gone though labour. So I'm working off of assumption and websites. **

**Next chapter will be up on the 15th. **

**-whovian123**


	85. Chapter 85

**Hello. Sorry for being a day late, this chapter was really hard and strange to write. It won't happen again... probably. I'll do my best. Sorry if this is a weird chapter. I'm going off of what the internet told me and the internet is a lot different than having lived it. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

I panic and feel like fainting. The smart part of my mind realizes that this was inevitable and of course that's what has been bothering me all day, but the much louder fool in me treats this as a terrible unexpected tragedy and reacts accordingly. I cuss again and am brought, once again, to an awkward bent over position, one hand on my doorknob and another clawing at my stomach. "Anna." I groan, not thinking clearly and begging for my sister to sort this out, to make it go away and happen some other more convenient time. A time when Kasper has not just gotten back and when I am not expecting the King and Queen of a nation that surely wants me dead. I can feel frost creep to life and spread out from my fingers and on to the doorknob.

"I thought that maybe, but surely not. The timing of it all." Anna mutters to herself. I take her arm and grip it tight.

"Anna!" she snaps her gaze back on to me. "What do I do? I need help. Please, get help." I plead blindly with my sister to make sense of what my head refuses to comprehend. She nods and sets off how the hallway at a sprint. I hear her shouting and cussing all the while.

I enter my room, the pain having passed, and sit down on my bed. My breathing comes far too quick and I lose any modicum of calm I retained. I cannot have this happen now. I am not ready for a baby now. I need to talk to Kasper. I need to pick a name. I need to be a different person, the type of person that can love a baby they never wanted.

The quick clattering of shoes is not far off. It does little to calm me. Help, doctors, and midwives, are only more signs that I cannot ignore this. I cannot sweep my baby under the rug as I did with how they got to be there. I cannot let it disappear from my world as I did with Hans and his venom green eyes. My mother and Anna burst through my door, Anna in the lead and looking significantly more panicked than my mother.

"Kasper's getting the midwife." Anna blurts. "He insisted, said he would be the fastest running. And I've send Kristoff for old linens, Mother said we need old linens. I don't know why."

"Because there are going to be things you don't want getting on new ones." Mother quips. Coming to my side and setting herself on my bed as well. Her arm goes to my back and rubs slow soothing circles in the way none other than a mother can. "Are you feeling alright?" She asks. "All things considered, of course, because you must let us know if anything seems terribly wrong or unexpected. This is going to be an uncomfortable situation."

"I'm ok." I assure. "As ok as I can be…" I focus on breathing enough, telling myself that if I just breathe enough everything will be easier.

"You're going to have to relax; it could be quite a while longer before anything actually begins to happen. These things can take time." Mother coos, and I listen. I listen because she knows what is happening. She has lived it twice, and I have not.

She is right. She is always right. As I manage my breathing and force myself to calm down I take in the situation properly. I understand what is happening, maybe not to the degree I wish I did, but a book can only tell you so much.

Kristoff blunders through the door, red faced and draped in linens and towels of all sorts. "I'm sorry," He huffs, "I didn't know what you need. Anna told me towels and sheets, but I didn't know how many, so I brought everything I could carry." Anna darts over to him, stretches on her toes to plant a quick kiss to his cheek, and then takes the towels from him, all while telling him he brought enough.

"I don't really know enough about this." He carries on blathering while his eyes shift nervously around the room, not daring to settle on me. I feel rather like a timer with deadly consequences.

Kasper chooses this moment to race through the already throw open door, thanks to Kristoff, and usher in two women, both clad in powder blue uniform dresses with aprons tied off at the waist. The carry with them large baskets that make clattering noises when placed on the ground.

"Did anything happen yet?" Kasper whirls around, scouting out any possible infants. "Is it here?"

Mother calms him down and assures him that things like this take much longer than that, and that, really, there is no reason to be rushing around yet. We have time. There is still time, and we should all take a deep breath and not get in the way of the midwives.

The two women are introduced to me and I promptly forget their names and am forced to identify them by hair color; one sports a mop of straw-like tresses, and the other jet back. It is simple enough. They take out a small cone shaped tool and cox me on to my back, assuring me that they are only going to check on the heartbeat of my baby, nothing more.

They check, offer me smiles, and ease my unconscious worry that everything will go terribly wrong by telling me that the heart beat is strong and that the baby is sitting in a fine position for delivery. After that they remove several small tools for a more extensive examination of the state of things, Kasper and Kristoff are shooed from the room.

I struggle with the invasiveness of it all. It all reminds me of how it was with him, Hans. He was there; he is all I can think about, all I can feel. My jaw clenches and my hand reaches wildly for a hand, something to hold on and anchor myself with. Mother's fingers fit in to mine and she squeezes in just the right way. She does not need to question my discomfort, she knows, Anna knows, everyone knows what happened. The world knows who put me on my back today. There is no question of who it was or what he did.

When it is over my chest deflates and my muscles come lose and languid. I am told, yet again, that everything is in order and I have a while yet until my labour will come to a head and pushing will be required of me. Until that time I am going to have to make due with mounting contractions and perhaps walk about to pass the time and stimulate movement. After that the midwives offer me some privacy with my family and promise that they will not be more than a shout away.

Anna helps me back to sitting, more pain having rendered me useless, and Mother sets herself in a chair she dragged over to my bedside. We breathe for a moment, all of us enjoying the air and using it to take the energy level down. Anna breaks the silence, as always, with a question. "Did you ever get around to picking a name?"

I baulk. "Oh no." My mind races, "what am I going to call it? I can't call it it forever. That's no name for an heir. I had so much time, why didn't I ever settle on a name." The worry of a name is an easy outlet for my keep the frost below the surface and the temperature tolerable.

"It's fine." Mother sooths. "There will be no revolt if the child is not named within the hour. I very much doubt the baby will even be born within the hour."

"Right." I mumble, bracing through yet another contraction. "I have to deal with this for a while yet."

Mother laughs. "This is the easy part, trust me."

I do. I trust her implicitly; likewise with Anna. I could not dream of a better family to keep me sane through this.

Anna realizes that the men are likely waiting outside worrying over that which they do not understand and leaves to tell them all is fine and that they can come in for a while if they think they can manage it. There is time enough to talk, and talk will keep my mind distracted.

Kasper comes in asking questions rapid fire. He rambles on and on, asking about things that even my mother does not understand. Kristoff stays by Anna, awkward with the grouping of people and not sure how to handle such a situation, introverted as he is. Eventually they are settled and tentative conversation is struck.

Time trickles by, intent on stretching and molding itself in to an abundance of minutes and seconds without end. I wince my way through waves of pain and everyone, for my benefit, pretends not to notice.

The midwives come and go several times, each visit shooing out Kasper and Kristoff and then examining all that needs examining. They offer the weak suggestion of sleep, as it is nearing midnight and it is clear by my expression that I am exhausted. I promise to try but know I won't.

Everyone settles back in and as they do, they being to fight back yawns. Out of obligation I tell them they can all go sleep. I assure them I won't mind and that I can survive the night. The baby probably will not come before morning. They all refuse. Even Kristoff; after persistent prompting it is gleaned that the ice harvester is eager to become an uncle. I should have known a man with little taste for people would have a penchant for babies.

While they did refuse to return to their beds it takes little time for them to begin nodding off. Kristoff is sprawled along a chair opposite the door and Anna wormed her way partially off her chair and on to her husband's chest. Both are asleep and snoring gently, almost in cadence. Mother lasts a while longer, regaling me with stories of her own labour; stories that I would rather not be hearing as I fight off the pain of more and more contractions. Eventually even she nods off; her head hanging down on her chest.

Kasper pushes though, persistent every time his eyes grow heavy. He keeps me talking, keeps me distracted, and for that I am grateful; even if we can only talk at a whisper for the sake of my sleeping family. I try to assure him that he can sleep, that, honestly, I won't mind. He brushes off the suggestion and instead climbs on my bed with me, setting himself on the edge with his feet flat on the floor with mine.

He stops his aimless chatter, favouring a simple side gaze at me. I study his loose half smile. "I'm really proud of you." He confesses. "I really really am." He wraps a tight arm around my shoulders and I lean in to his chest, thankful for the broad warm support.

For several moments the smell of him overwhelms me, the rich salty tang of travel. "You never even got a chance to change." I mention.

"What?"

"You got in, and then I caused this ruckus. You never had a chance to wash or change; you're still covered in the grime of travel." I make no move to be less buried in his person at this revelation. "I'm sorry."

"Elsa, no, don't be sorry for that. That's not your fault. You haven't done anything."

"You're probably exhausted too. I know I am and I haven't been on a boat for days on end." I begin a useless ramble that is stretching the limits of the title; whisper.

"Shhh." Kasper mumbles against my ear. "I promise you that I will change the instant I know that you and this baby are safe and healthy, ok? The pair of you are important to me now. I need to make sure you are both in perfect condition."

"That was actually… Before for this happened…" I struggle for the words, the fear of rejection building with the heat from Kaspers chest. "It's just… well… my baby doesn't have a daddy." I choke out the words. "Hans, he doesn't count, and even if he did he isn't here to count. I couldn't have had him here."

Kasper lazes his hand from my shoulder up and down my back, easing the tension from my muscles and pressing light kisses to my hair line. The simplicity of the intimacy astounds me and I hesitate to break it with what I need to say. "Before you left you said that you wanted what happened to mean something, but it didn't have to if I didn't want it to. I want it to mean something. I want to be able to be here like this with you all the time. And I want to kiss you again." I confess in a whirl. "What I mean, or am getting at, is that I can't let you mean something to me unless you mean something to my baby, and I can't let you mean anything to either of us unless you honestly intend to, and believe that you will, be around for a long long while."

It is now that a secondary panic sets in, building on the already present and managed panic of having a baby. I realize that Kasper's arm has stopped moving and that his breath is coming quick and shallow against my temple. I begin to pull away, berating myself for thinking that I might be able to scrape together a set of parents for my baby, that I might still be something that can be desired.

"Do I get to be called Papa?"

I pause.

"Are you giving me a child, offering me the job as a parent, as your, well, your whatever I might come to be? For you can be assured that is what I want to be."

"I know it's not ideal." The words catch in my throat. "Really, I expect you will be on the next boat home. But, when I'm with you, right here right now, I can almost imagine that we are a family. And it's been a terrible amount of time, I should know you so much better, I don't, but I want to. When I'm with you it's like it's always been this way, like this is our baby and we planned it and wanted it from the beginning, and… I really want that, because when I imagine it with you it all works out, it all really feels like it will work because it was meant to. You make sense in my head when there has never been room for a man." I work my way through several deep breaths and wince at another wave of pain, a reminder that now is a terrible time for this conversation.

"Will you smile if I tell you this feels like all I have ever needed?"

"Why?"

"Because your smile is the best thing in my world right now, and when I say yes I want to know if I'll need to be watching your eyes or your mouth."

I smile.

Kasper's voice turns to an emotional rasp. "Hey, you didn't warn me, I need warnings before you dazzle me, ok? You'll have to keep that in mind for the rest of forever, as you are letting me stick around."

Overwhelmed by both mind and body I curl further into Kasper and let out weak and shaky sobs. His hand resumes its careful strokes up and down my back and he redoubles his efforts to trace all the lines of my face with his mouth, and with a final reverent kiss to my forehead I feel his own stray tears against my skin.

"Elsa." He starts.

"No, no more saying things from you, they only make me want to happy cry more."

"I was going to ask you if you think you can manage any sleep, or are your contractions too painful and too fast."

"Why do you know what contractions are?" My addled and scrambled mind only manages to wonder how Kasper knows all these things that no other man would.

"I read up on pregnancy… a lot…" He states.

"For me?"

"For you."

I nuzzle in to his chest on e more, fatigue tainting all my thoughts and all my inhibitions. Maybe I can manage just a little bit. Kasper shifts around and ends up with his back against my head board and me somewhat next to him, and somewhat on top of him. I spend the rest of the night drifting around between sleep and cussing gently through contractions.

It comes to a point where the waves of pain are too frequent and the sun too bright as it begins to rise over the fjords. I commit to being awake and enjoy the silence of everyone else being asleep, knowing full well that this might be the last silent moment I am granted for several years.

The midwives are back soon enough, their joviality bringing everyone else back to wakefulness. There is pause for a moment from the midwife with dark hair as she notices just how piled on to Kasper I am, but she makes no mention of it as she shoos the men from the room and does what needs to be done.

After being examined I am told that things are going well, that my baby is still fine, and that it will not be long now. I should expect to have my heir in my arms by midday, an optimistic estimate.

Kristoff and Kasper file back in, arms laden with pastries and easily transportable fruit. Breakfast is distributed and unrelenting eyes pressure me in to eating my fair share.

It is suggested by someone that I get up and move about as means of getting things going and keeping me awake as my eyes rest heavy whenever the pain fades away for the slightest moment. I am prompted to my feet and taken on a meandering stroll through the hallways. The pain increases and the contractions come faster. As the rate of my wincing and flinching increases it becomes clear than perhaps the mark set for midday will be met and that I best get myself back to my bed. I am most agreeable to that idea and feel Kasper's arm wind around my waist to keep me upright though the more aggressive contractions.

Once I am returned to my bed the midwives are fetched. I see Kristoff's blonde head bob away as he sets out in search. Anna, Kasper, and Mother hover over me, asking me how I feel and what they can do. As none of them can stop the pain or get my baby outside of my body I assure them that I am fine and will be fine unless they keep worrying so much.

"I can get you another pillow." Anna assures. "Don't feel as if you are being needy in asking, really it's just for my niece or nephew." She smiles and I return it. Anna seems to be only one that understands the extent of my ability to panic and that I need to be kept calm, not worried over. Really, it's a wonder I haven't blown the castle apart with a snow storm yet.

Kristoff comes back with the midwives and is promptly shut out again with Kasper, they are promised updates when it is realized that they will likely not see me again until everything is said and done.

I try to focus on what is being said around me and to me, but the pain overrides everything. The contractions have built into a twisting of my stomach and all within it, and pressure has begun to rapidly gather in the base of my abdomen. I groan as a contraction tightens in my back and clamps down on the entirety on my stomach, squeezing and turning my bones to white hot steel.

My mother hangs over top of me, I having at some point been directed to lie down and prop my legs up and apart. She tells me that I am going to have to start pushing soon. I worry for a moment that I do not know how to push, that I have missed some great revelation in the realm of birthing and pushing. It doesn't make sense in my head what muscles need moving and how it all comes together. Then another contraction hits, the strongest yet, it comes as a great pressure and pain throughout my stomach and my hips. I scream without realizing and suddenly, conveniently when the command is being given to me, pushing makes sense.

I struggle to breathe as the contraction falls away and I flinch at the thought of another one. Mother comes to my head again, deciding that it is more interesting than what the rest of me is doing. "You're doing lovey, Elsa." She reaches down and tucks wily hair behind my ear. "Just like that for a little while longer. I promise, it will be fine."

"No." I stammer, feeling panic rise up in my chest. "I can't do it. I can't do that, not again. It hurts too much. It won't work." Is that snow settling on her shoulder? Why can I see her breath, I shouldn't be able to see her breath. "A baby can't come out of there. It can't work. Mama I can't do this. I can't, I can't" There is snow, it is snow. If I pause for a moment I can feel it inside my chest, the snow and the cold leeching out of me with my panic and fear.

"Elsa." Anna appears on the other side of my field of view. "You are strong, far stronger than me. You know how strong you are. Think of all the things you have done, the people you defeated. This is nothing."

"Anna. I'm too tired. I can't." I feel another contraction begin to stir. It comes with its wave of tensing and clamping and blunders through all my bones and stomach, tearing at whatever it can get at and turning the pressure in to a blazing fire. I am told to push again and do so with another helpless cry of anguish.

The midwives are rushing about and doing something, what, I cannot be bothered with. My body is no longer my own. I am feeling everything that is not pain though a separate mesh. All is filtered out and muted while the pain is magnified and coursing. Anna offers a hand and I grasp it, anchoring myself to her and her fingers tight around mine.

She doesn't make it possible, but she does make it bearable. After far too short a time another contraction rears its head, this time claiming the entirety of my pelvis and my stomach with its shredding claws. I push and it feels as if I might fall out of myself. I expect to come tumbling head first outside of myself and to find that I have ripped Anna's hand off on the process. She flinches, I don't know whether from my grip or my scream.

Someone makes mention of a head, I think it is Mother. I can see her at the base of my bed, whispering with the midwife that has straw hair. They say something more about crying and the eventuality of shoulders. I lose focus as another contraction rips me in two and sets me on fire. My throat feels raw from the screaming and I have the presence of mind to be sensibly ashamed of all the noise I am making. Then another contraction makes itself known, not giving me any reasonable time to collect my thoughts, with the pressure of several boulders twisting through my stomach and the agony of every muscle in my lower half deciding to peel off of my bones and walk away.

Mother appears back at my side and offers me her hand just as Anna has. She smiles as I take it, my tight grip not yet deterring her even though I may rip off the only hand she has left. She tells me that this is the final stretch and that several more pushes will have my holding a newborn.

I mean to say something nice back, I really do. Instead my intestines turn to boiling water and the boulders on my stomach are pushed down will all the force of a terribly annoying cosmic giant. Every pain and discomfort comes to a head and I am sure I will die. I become more sure than I ever have been that I cannot survive this and will die here and now, but I still push, even as I scream myself horse.

Then another cry joins mine.

Everything falls away.

There is nothing in my word anymore, no pain, no pressure. All I can hear is that cry. The midwives smile and wrap something up; something small, and shiny, and so completely perfect. I reach wildly for it. It is mine. I worked for it and I am going to love it.

They hand it first to my mother, they say something to, something that doesn't matter. Nothing matters right now. Nothing matters anywhere except that bundle. My mother smiles down at it and brings it to me, she relinquishes it as I draw it close, needing it as near as possible to the heart that beats only for it. Mother says one thing as she hands my baby over, a single word.

"Girl."

* * *

**Sooo... Yeah... Sorry about the estrogen pit that is the family. I'll have Kasper and Kristoff hanging around a lot more to keep the balance (I have a this theory that Kristoff absolutely loves babies.) **

**I'll have an update for you all on the 21st... Probably. This next chapter is much easier to write. **

**-Whovian123**

**Kathy22334: Thank you. I've tried to give her a character that makes sense with the people Anna and Elsa grew up to be. **

**NicPie: Thank you. Glad I caught your bithday. I hope it was a good one. You're going to have to wait a little longer with the name and power status of the new princess, but hopefully the gender will be enough to tide you over until next update. (Which will be on time.)**

**David-3105: Thank you. I am about to argue (lightly and non-angrily mind you) that Kristoff, though a prince, has spent the entirety of his life away from people and working hard as an ice harvester for the things he had. Maybe he should be at the place more, but I don't think any amount of Anna pestering him could get him to give up his job, he's a proud man. Regardless, I'm glad you are still enjoying the story. The proper real end is almost near. **

**chinaluv: Ahhh Elsa indeed. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. I guess I'm a little late in sending you a internet get well message. but... I hope you get well soon, or, alternatively, got well long ago. (As we are chronologically muddled.) I hope this chapter made general sense. It was a pretty big shot in the dark. **

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. Southern Isles will be showing their faces in the next few chapters. **

**Sophisticated-Grace: Thank you for catching my mistakes and nit-picking. I'd rather that that have them up without my knowing. I hope your exams have gone well/ are going well. The way I see it is, Kasper has known she was pregnant for a while, he would have bailed if it was too much for him. **

**Shadowfax321: Yup. **

**Goldie-Roth: Thank you, sorry I was late. I hope it lives up to your expectations. **


	86. Chapter 86

**Hello. I hope I didn't scare to many of you away with the last chapter. It's go big or go home, ya know? RRegardless, I hope you enjoy this chapter**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

I'm crying now. Not the painful crying of someone broken. It's a happy cry as pure as they come. It makes a marvelous change.

The bundle looks up at me, my little girl, with her mouth still working furiously as she tries to make sense of the new things around her. Her hair is a sprig of wispy white and her eyes open wide and green. They are green but they are not green like his. They are green like spring trees, something fresh, and new, and loving.

She is perfect.

"She's gorgeous." Anna whispers from my side. "Hi there," she coos at my arms, bringing a sense of normalcy back to the chaotic room, "I'm your Aunty Anna. This is your mother, I'm not quite sure she can speak right now, so I'll do the introductions." She points to our mother. "That's Grandma. Your Uncle Kristoff is outside, and so is..." Anna trails away, not confident with what to call Kasper.

"Your daddy." I confirm, finding that I do still have the ability to speak.

"Yes." Anna agrees. "Your daddy is waiting outside with your uncle, and both are probably very nervous after the screaming that has been going on in here. But before we go about introducing you to people we need your mummy to name you."

Our mother moves in to tell Anna that I do not need to be rushed and that it is fine for me to take a day to figure out what will suit the princess. I do not give her the chance to speak. "Eleanor. Princess Eleanor of Arendelle." It works; it makes sense in my head and falls in to place on my tongue. She is Eleanor, and she will be perfect.

"Well then little Ellie." Anna concludes. "That just about does it."

"Welcome home." I mutter to her. Loving the weight of her and the frantic throbbing of my heart and it stretches and fills out, cultivating the love necessary for my daughter. Her eyes squeeze shut and her cries begin to take on a less piercing tone. She still makes noise, seems to have a knack for wailing.

The midwives finish up and take Eleanor from me, only after promising me repeatedly that they are just going to measure and weigh her. They just need to make sure she is utterly healthy and that nothing was missed. Already my arms feel too light without her.

She weighs five pounds and four ounces. She is so small, too small to seem real. I begin to doubt that she really does exist, and that she really is mine. I get to love her, and hold her. I am her mother and she is my daughter. I am too used to being a daughter; it baffles me that I am both. When they are done with her I am more than eager to have her back in my arms. She belongs there, and there she shall stay for as long as I can manage.

As I watch her open and close her eyes and jerk her arms around aimlessly Mother takes a damp cloth to my face. "Elsa." She dabs at my forehead. "I am going to be honest with you; you look a mess, which is also the picture of motherhood. So I suspect everything will carry along fine."

"Thank you." I mumble, exhausted from the bodily trauma of my late morning. I stifle a yawn and attempt to come to terms with the dramatic shift in my family.

"Shall we get the boys in here before you fall asleep or make them wait?" Anna asks from my side, her eyes trained on Eleanor.

"It's too early for sleep." I counter, blundering in to another berating from Anna.

"It's never too early for you. You just finished making a little person and got hardly any sleep last night. You need to sleep." Anna smiles all the while, it is too good a day for anything but.

"Ellie needs to meet everyone." I insist, pulling her just that much closer to my chest, impossibly close. "Give Kasper and Kristoff ten minutes, and then I'll rest, promise. I want to show her off. She's... everything." Ellie's eyes open, she stares up at me, not seeing properly I am sure, but it feels like she is reading my soul, or rather, rewriting it. She mixes it about and changes it to suit her needs.

Anna grins again and takes her leave to retrieve the princes waiting outside. Kasper leads the return, coming in at a light jog, his eyes wide and his hair pushed around as if by nervous hands. He stops when he sees me, his steps faltering for a moment and then redoubling. He is at my side and on his knees, perfectly level with the edge of my bed. "I was so worried." He stammers. "You were screaming, and it was awful. I wanted to make it go away. It was all I could hear." His eyes claim mine. "But you're ok?"

I nod.

"And now you have her, we have her." His gaze shifts to my arms, and the little face swathed with blankets." She's- she's just amazing, and I don't understand how you could make something so great, but you are you, and that makes complete sense that you could make a child that steals the parts of my heart you hadn't gotten to yet."

"She's Eleanor." I introduce the pair. "Ellie, this is your daddy. He is one of the best men I have ever met, and he is going to take the job your other daddy gave up." I blather on to her, knowing that she can have no possible idea what I am saying. "Your other daddy wasn't really a daddy, but this daddy, your real daddy. He is."

"You said 'daddy' a lot." Kasper mumbles, leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "Don't worry about him," we both know which him he means, "he doesn't matter. Not anymore."

Then something occurs to me. "They will be here soon." I look up and at my assembled family. "The King and Queen of The Southern Isles, they are still coming and will be here. I can't let them near here. They can't be near her. They want to take her." Panic floods my perception and I hold my precious bundle tighter. "They can't have her. I need the docks guarded, day and night. We need to be watching for them. I need to know she's safe. Always."

Sensing my panic Anna assures me she will have troops on the dock within the hour. She runs from the room, dragging Kristoff behind her, to relay my orders to the guards.

I nod loose-necked nods and feel my eyes drooping. Eleanor is asleep, having drifted off and stopped crying some time ago. I imagine she is nearly as tired and stunned as me. It must be strange seeing everything for the first time and trying to make sense of it all.

Mother slides in to place next to Kasper and looks down at me. "Time for you to get some rest, ok? Everyone has seen Ellie and nothing good can come from you being awake any longer. Trust me, you will reach a point where you will take any five minute nap you can get." She smiles wistfully down at me and turns to Kasper. "And you, you haven't even settled in yet. I'll see you to your room while we leave these two to recover."

Kasper makes to object, but sees the hard glint of steel behind my mother's light gaze and realizes that she does not make suggestions. He promises me he will be at my side the instant I wake up, and then departs with my mother.

It takes moments to fall asleep. It comes more readily than it has since the first day I confronted Hans on his boat. Perhaps I am so utterly exhausted that my mind refuses to fight sleep the way it tends to with nightmares, or maybe it is the weight in my arms. The soft whispering breaths that serve as a lullaby so effective I cannot dream, not of anything. It is only rest, complete and pure.

I wake up to the night. The stars are out and the moon is bright, blistering in the velvet of the sky. She is stirring, is garbling and demanding to be fed. I push the tuft of hair out of her eyes. She makes quick work of it and then settles for looking around the best she can. Her eyes are bright and drift lazily around the room, spending a majority of the time focused on the ceiling. I briefly wonder what secrets it holds.

Then she focuses on me. The best part of this, one of them, is that her eyes to not hurt, they do not startle me as I so worried green would. She wears them as a different colour, unrelated to anything _he _ever was. Nothing unkind or malicious will ever fester in her heart. She will be safe from that, safe from any kind of hurt.

Her hair does worry me. It is mine; white. White hair has only cropped up in my family for me. It seems less a hair colour and more an indicator of other powers bristling below the surface. It scares me to think that she might have to deal with that, to battle the urge to rebel against it. I hope that my mistakes will be enough to teach her the right way to wield winter, if she does possess it.

I try to remember when I first used my powers, when it became apparent that I was different and new. Mother knew so soon, so surely. Should I not sense it about my own child? Have I missed something? Are the windows frosty? There is no trace of anything being colder than it should be.

She keeps me from panicking. I wiggle my finger in front of her face, desperate to keep my mind on her and that she is alive and perfect. I wonder if she wants to look at the moon. I ask her and she stares back at me, cheeks rounded and red.

I get up.

"I promise you'll love it." I mumble, for my benefit and not Ellie's. "It's really bright tonight. And there are stars out too. You're so lucky your first night is so beautiful." I meander toward the window, easing the ache from my back and my legs. I expect it will take some time to feel normal again.

I hum. It is a nonsense hum but it makes sense in my head that I will hum and sway in a gentle tide to keep things from being too still.

"See, stunning." I whisper to Ellie as her eyes turn toward the window. "It will be full tomorrow. You can see it then too." She turns back to my face, only after giving the moon a thorough examination, and watches my mouth. "Like my voice do you? Well, I'll have to keep talking then." I coo downward. "I bet you didn't expect this; such a mismatched family, and so many girls. You did nothing to help even that ratio out, although, I don't think anyone really minds. I know I don't, Anna doesn't, Mother will just be glad everything is ok and we are both safe. I don't really know what Kristoff will think of you, he's a quiet one he is." I pause and meander through the room, coming to rest at my desk, not quite ready to return to bed yet. "And Kasper, well… That is where your life gets really complicated."

I hope she can manage. I hope that it somehow comes together for her as the years pile on. I do not want to have failed her, but fear I may have. I plead that she can one day understand why people whisper about the long dead King Hans when she walks by.

She grumbles at me. So I speak. "You want me to keep going, do you? Well then, I'll just have to think up new things to say until you quiet down and go to sleep. I really hope it's soon. I could do with a nap, really, just any sleep at all." I meander back to bed and enjoy the heavily lidded stare I receive for my cheek. "Have I embarrassed you already? You best be ready for a life time of that." I bite back a yawn and note that Ellie's eyes are closed and her breathing is slow and easy. I follow suit moments later.

* * *

**Well then. I hope it was good. Let me know what you thought. **

**The next chapter will be out on the 26th. **

**-Whovian123**


	87. Chapter 87

**It's late again. This is becoming a very shameful habit. Normally I don't try to skirt around blame with I'm late with an update, but I am going to try and take some of the heat of off myself by explaining that finals season has just started for me and it's been an interesting week. I'll try to keep up the best I can, but if I miss something it doesn't mean I ran away. **

**-Whovian123**

* * *

The next time I wake it is morning, or at the very least it is light out. My time-keeping may be off. Rather a lot has been happening in the last day.

I smile.

Rather a lot of wonderful stuff has been happening.

She is still at my chest, cradled by my arms that are surely not deserving of her. Her breathing is slow and her face peaceful, placid, lucid. I want to get up, want to search the castle for my family and hear of all that has been happening, and what will come to happen, and share with them the little face with a scrunched up mouth and a bright shiny nose that wriggles about amid whatever a newborn can think to dream up.

But I wait. I do not dare shift in the slightest lest Ellie be woken up. I am sure she will be greedily drink in all that her new senses have to offer in short time, but in till such time I will revel in the quiet and count my breaths. It is a break in which I collect my thoughts, make sense of them and order then for easy assessment. Then file away the unimportant things, such as when am I going to find the time to rearrange the novels on my books shelf; as I have just now realized, due to my aimless staring, that they are in no discernible order.

The more important and pressing matters of my life remain as open inquiries. The Southern Isles will be here in short time and I have no way of knowing what will come with them and just how desperate they will be for Ellie.

I shiver against the hollow cloying panic of having my baby stolen in the night and treated as an inhuman weapon or bargaining chip. She will not be let out of my sight or grasp during the entirety of whatever the visit from The Southern Isles royalty turns in to. Whether it remains a civil visit with an amicable parting involving no promise of a threatening follow up, or devolves in to a violent cry for war.

She wakes up with my shiver, her eyes lazing open and being entranced by the shapes around her, her lips pursing together as they fail to make any sense to her. I let out a breathless laugh, not entirely sure why; bound to the eyes that have now found mine. "Shall we go find the others? Perhaps you will get a chance to be more properly acquainted."

Ellie garbles nonsense and I take it as confirmation that my plan is the best course of action for the day.

There is a general ache that persists in my body as I make my way about the castle, determined to find evidence of my family. I happen across several guards and they point me in the direction of the gardens, telling me that they saw Anna near a large fountain featuring a reindeer. The men smile down at Ellie and tell me she will make a fine princess.

I give my thanks and set out to discover where we might have a reindeer adorned fountain lurking.

I discover it behind the castle, tucked away behind several large pines, all ringed at the base with small purple flowers and creeping ivy and moss. Voices, more than just Anna's, drift through the foliage. The fountain itself is encased with a long curving bench, on that bench is, Kristoff, Anna, and Kasper. I worry that something may be afoot and clear my throat to make myself known, lest I hear something unsavoury.

The trio turn around in quick succession and smile broad nervous smiles when they see me. Anna jumps up and clamors over to me, fussing with Ellie and asking how I feel.

"Good." I answer. "Better than I have in a very long time." I hand Ellie off to Anna and she takes the fragile little girl, and myself, back toward the bench with her. I sit down next to Kasper and Anna, Kristoff is beside his wife and smiling simply down at the bundle in her arms. It strikes me that they make an attractive pair between them and look far more equipped to deal with children than I feel.

"What were the three of you doing out here?" I question, studying the magnificent marble reindeer, carved to an absurd level of detail, behind me.

"Oh." Kasper starts. "We were talking about…" He stammers and splutters, seeming to be wholly embarrassed.

Kristoff interjects. "It's ok." He assures Kasper. "Elsa doesn't have anything against Sven, you can tell her."

I begin to worry.

"Yes, of course." Kasper tugs his hand through his hair and across his chin. "Well. You see, we were taking a walk, the three of us," he gestures hurriedly to Anna and Kristoff, "and we came across Sven, he was, well, he was… eating all of the tulips, trampling them and eating all of them. We were talking about bringing in an assistant gardener to help replace then all before you noticed."

I have no special affinity for tulips and am no fool, being quite aware of the uncomfortable aura around the fountain and the impossibility of Sven ever fancying the eating of anything other than carrots. I do not argue, I know enough about secrets to know that they cannot remain buried and forcing them out of someone has never done anyone the slightest bit of good. I trust my family enough to believe that whatever they are not telling me will not come to harm anyone.

"And mother?" I question, relaxing the air and giving the trio a chance to recollect themselves."Has anyone seen her today? I asked some guards and they said she's hidden herself away somewhere."

"I saw her earlier." Kasper supplies, "she was in the study, your study. I talked with her a bit but she shooed me out to get some work done. She insisted that you not have a great pile of things accumulate while you adjusted back to responsibilities. Seemed like she fell right back into place in there. I expect she was a wonderful Queen."

"She was," I confirm, "she and my father had it in their blood. They understood people." I let myself wish for my father as I come to realize he will be unable to ever meet Ellie. I still miss him. I still miss him a lot. It comes out in small ways for meaningless things. When I see books he loved. When it rains that perfect fragrant spring rain that he claimed was the entire point of the season. Sometimes nothing brings it on, I can be sitting, doing nothing, and then I remember him, and I wipe away whatever tears do come and he weighs in my chest for long hours after.

Anna coos at Ellie once more then hands her back to me. I let out a small breath of relief at the weight back in my arms. My smile starts up again as my little girl stares up at me again.

"Do you think she's like you?" Kristoff blurts from an angled position beside Anna, his face blindingly red when I look up. "I mean, powers, can she make ice? It's just, her hair, and it might be passed down." The ice harvester lowers his eyes and mumbles into his chest, embarrassed.

Anna swats at his arm and stamps on his toes to cut him off before he rambles himself into a deeper whole. "You don't have to answer." She covers. "It's fine. It doesn't matter anyway. We still love her just as much, powers or no." Her eyes dart to my face and then away.

"I don't know." I confess. "I'm worried that she might. I don't want her to have to live through being different and trying to understand it and how it works. I was thinking and then realized that mother would be the only one to have seen it in a young child. I never asked her when it was that she realized I was different. I'll have to pay her a visit and hope she knows what there might be to look out for." My heart clenches and cracks at the thought of my daughter struggling with herself and this alien feeling the way I have. Maybe it could be easier for her with me. Maybe I can teach her and she can be safe. Maybe she isn't like me.

"We'll find her together." Anna insists. "I haven't seen mother all day, and if Kasper is right and she's been in the study since sunrise she'll have been swamped with work and must be in dire need of company and a break." I follow along behind Anna, her hand around my wrist, and Ellie perched in the crook of my other arm. "Kristoff and Kasper can chat tulips."

I decide that I am altogether too tired to be bothered with whatever tulips may be covering up, or Anna's ceaseless chatter as we march through the halls, or the persistent hunger at the pit of my stomach. I seem to have missed both breakfast and lunch. I hope dinner is not far off.

Mother is in the study, eyes bagged and papers strewn about her on the desk. She looks up when we enter and drops her pen. "Has something happened?" She worries aloud, coming to stand in front of me and inspecting my child.

"No." I mumble. "Nothing of any sort, nothing that I am aware of." I struggle to ask my question aloud. A sneaking suspicion coupled with fear and worry is one thing, the honest confirmed truth is another. "I was wondering about Ellie. She has white hair like me, and I was thinking she might be… like me."

"And you wanted to know how your powers manifested as a child?"

I nod.

"It was several days after you were born." She mumbles, taking Ellie in her arms and speaking down toward the child. "It started with little things. Rooms would be colder; there would be frost on windows and cutlery. I didn't think much of it; I was distracted with my new daughter." Her smile turns wistful and she looks up to me. "Sometimes it's hard to connect those two images, you as you were and you as you are now. So much has happened…" She takes a slight moment to herself before remembering her story and taking it to its end. "It was in the middle of the night, the stars were out and you wanted something, maybe you had a nightmare. I went to you, stumbling through the halls half asleep, and found your nursery coated in ice, I remember being frantic as the door stuck and the way the brass burnt with a blaring cold. When I got to you it was obvious, you had frost swirling around you and snow was piling up in great heaps when you flailed your arms."

"So their isn't anyway to know for sure, not yet?" I question, worried and scared at the scene my mother has described. Only now do I understand the terror behind her calm; the fear and the worry that must come from having to manage something unseen before. When the frost had cleared what was there to be done for me? It was not an illness one could treat with herbs or wait until it passed. I was different and was destined to remain so, and there was no one previous to explain what was happening and if all would be safe and alright. "She could be just like me and I might not know for ages, not until something sets her off, or she might not be like me and I might spend forever worrying about it showing up and…"

I trail away, not sure what I mean or what I worry for. I could teach her, I have been through it without awareness of any sort. With a guide it must be easier, with someone who feels the same way, someone who is as volatile as you are and immune to any lapse in control or impulsive bolt of cold.

Mother hands Ellie back to me, retreating back to my desk and to my work that I really ought to be doing. "Its' a waiting game." She muses.

I sight, low and long, as I gaze down at Ellie. Her face is passive and blank; sometime in the conversation she has fallen asleep. She has my hair and his eyes; maybe that is a good sign. Maybe white hair is a fluke and it is the icy blue eyes that make the power. Maybe it is that my eyes are a coincidence and that hair truly indicates power. Rather it may be that power will inhabit who it wishes and physical attributes will reveal no hints as to who may possess winter within their hearts.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed this. I would love reviews, they are amazing. **

**I'm going to stretch out the usual five day wait time just a little bit. Sorry about that, I'm sure you understand what with exams and all, and this way I for sure wont be late or stressed. The next chapter will be up on the 3rd of June. **

**-Whovian123**

**Aeluna-AKA-Sophisticated-Grace: Thank you. I'm probably a little late, but, Happy Birthday! I'm glad the name is growing on you, it's very strange picking a name for a character. I imagine Ellie will have an understanding that Kasper is not biologically her father, but I don't think it will dawn on her untill she is much older quite what the extent of Hanses intrusion into her mothers life was. **

**chinaluv: Thank you. **

**Goldie-Roth: Thank you. **

**NicPie: Thank you. I'm going to be 100% honest with you about the eyes, I completely forgot that babies are born with blue eyes, and that Elsa's blue eyes might have been tied to her powers. So... Ellies eyes are going to stay green and it's going to be chalked up to really very strong Hans genes.**

**David-3105: Thank you. Alas all good things must come to an end, although that end is a good 15ish chapters away, at the least. I'll make no promise about whether or not there will be war. I chose the name Eleanor because it's meaning is shining light and I thought that reflected, rather wonderfully, all that she will be to Elsa as the world comes back to what it was and how there are lights in what may at first seem to be only darkness. **

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. I'm glad you like Ellie, It's hard giving a newborn any sense of personality. And yes, on to the Southern Isles. Storms are brewing. **

**tericooper77: Thank you so much. I'm glad you enjoyed it. There is much more to come. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. I hope you had fun and that wherever you went was beautifully tropical or richly historic (or both). I was massively anxious about the birth. It was one of those times when I couldn't afford to take a step back and realize how absurd it was for me to be trying to write that. It worked out much better than I could have hoped. **


	88. Chapter 88

**Hello. I made it on time with this update that's good. **

**I'll let you get to it then. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

I groan and turnabout in my bed, the quilting gets caught on my shoulders and I push to find the source of the sharp quick cries. I do not wake up, not truly, in till she is in my arms and feeding. Ellie's calm demeanour of her first day melted away rather quickly and waking up to blind screaming has become somewhat of a regular occurrence.

I coo and smooth back her hair. The little girl stares up at me, mouth now otherwise occupied and unable to continue with her serenade.

Easing in to motherhood was a relaxing notion earlier on. The idea that things would come slowly and would all fit into perfect order had been a nice one. The bags under my eyes and stifled yawns suggest otherwise. It has been a tremendously long week.

There is sunlight filtering across the room and casting stretched out lines across the floor. It is early, far too early, and I am ravenous. Ellie continues to stare up at me and I continue my habit of one-sided conversations with her. "You wouldn't happen to have learned to talk during the night? Have you?" I sigh. "I do suppose that would be too much to ask for, wouldn't it. Well, if you do, let me know if you feel somewhat… _wintery. _Although you haven't even seen a winter yet, so you wouldn't know what to look for in snow."

She grumbles up at me, her face twisted and confused, but blessedly satiated. My stomach demands breakfast and I am all too eager to comply.

I come across Olaf in the halls. The snowman is enamored with his little sister and is constantly bringing her trinkets of all kind from vendors and stalls in the village. Today it is a small bracelet with white gold links and sweet blue gems. It is too big by several years but neither party seems to mind as one grins, and the other mouths at the metal; wishing, perhaps, that it tasted better.

Breakfast is a quiet affair, being as all sensible residents of the castle have not yet woken up, and I eat my fill. Anna meanders in after a time and greets me with a sleepy grin. Her brief trend of early morning seems to be fading away more and more with each night. Old habits die hard I suppose.

Mother makes an appearance after the bulk of the food has been cleaned up. She repeats Anna's smile and rushes off to do work. I insist that she doesn't have to and she insists that it is something to do and that my plate is already full. I look down at the restless bundle in my arms and agree. Ellie gurgles and snorts as I make my way up and out of the castle.

Fresh air has never done anyone wrong and I feel the stale weight of The Southern Isles and their threat all too acutely indoors. The gardens are beautiful in spring and the sky is cloudless, Ellie doesn't seem to mind the sun, and is fascinated by the flowers I point out to her, going as far as to begin a chorus of hollering as I attempt to walk away from a patch of rich purple streaked white tulips, whole and uneaten. She quiets down after I pluck one for her and take to twirling it about several inches in front of her face.

A strange thought passes thought my mind as I keep the flower moving and watch Ellie's eyes drink in the new movement. "You haven't seen me do any magic have you?" I wonder aloud at the confused and delighted girl. "Do you think you would know what was going on if I did something, just a little puff of snow, nothing… dangerous?" Her nose wrinkles and she lets out a happy shriek as I touch the flower to her forehead.

I continue. "Maybe, if I did something, you would do something too… Something magic. And then I would know. I just want to know." My stomach drops though to my feet whenever I imagine not knowing for much longer. I need to know. The uncertainty is infuriating and the lack of proper communication is a major hindrance. It would be easier to know, to have the confirmation, good or bad, though which is which I almost can't decide, and then move forward from there.

"I don't know if I could keep you safe though." I remember, with terrible vivid detail, all the expressions worn by all who I have hurt. Shocked, scared, and betrayed. Anna turned to ice, died for moments but was brought back from the edge. I cannot risk Ellie. No matter how careful I am.

I wouldn't hurt her, would I? Surely some part of myself would kick in with the instinctual reaction of control in things were to spiral. Ellie would be safe. I would keep her safe.

Maybe the worrying is too much. Maybe it is better for all involved that I trust myself to not make a tragic mistake this once and have faith in myself as Ellie's mother to do right by her and keep her safe.

"I'm going to do it, just a little bit. Maybe you'll see it, and maybe it will help, just a tiny bit. Small magic, very small magic. It won't be more than a little bit of snow." I set the tulip on the ground, carefully, as it is rather pretty. "Oh I hope you love snow, I can't imagine you not liking snow, with or without powers it is rather a nice sight on the mountains."

I stop my monologue, recognizing it as a stall tactic and altogether pointless. I force a calming breath in and out, and then set my shoulders low and strong. I can control it, I know I can. When I am by myself it is as easy as breathing. When I am with people I love, people that matter too much, then I worry.

It comes in my fingers, a sweeping wave thrilled to be free. I wiggle them in front of Ellie, showing her the way frost dances in the air and floats away with the wind. She gurgles and then quiets down, reverent. I smile at her and let it snow, I hold it and suspend it above her, feeling it as I feel my toes and my tongue. Snow is a part of me, as acutely as flesh.

Ellie lets out a delighted shriek and makes a wild grab for the snowflakes. I release them and they drift away, following the frost in the wind. My heart stalls and I wait for Ellie to do something, to reveal herself as magic or to decide she is normal as normal can be. Instead of either she begins to cry at the end of my ice snow.

Defeated I pick the tulip back up and return to the nonsensical twirling. Her cries persist and her hands wave in tame flails. Her small fingers wrap around the tulip steam, likely unintentionally, and from that point of contact small veins of ice web out. In seconds the flower is encased in frost and ice.

I stammer and stutter and worry that it is me.

It has to have been me. She can't have understood that, she can't have made sense of cold and ice that simply. I snatch the flower back from her, inspecting it and half hoping it had been an all too convincing trick of the light. It is not. The flower is thick with ice and I only add to it as I begin to panic.

She is like me. My innocent little girl is going to have this following her like a shadow through all her life, just as it has me. "I'm sorry." I gasp, trying to remember what it is to breathe. "I'm so sorry. It's my fault. I was going to be good to you, better than _him_; it wasn't going to be bad like him. But I did this. I didn't want to. I didn't want this to be my legacy. I would have stopped it if I could. Sorry. I'm sorry. Please, please, I'm sorry." I plead and beg with Ellie to forgive me, she doesn't understand but something must have set her off because she is wailing with me now.

I back myself up against a tree trunk and use it to keep myself upright. I focus of the rough pine bark against my back and the scent of the needles, sharp and floral. Then I take care of her. I can panic and scream all I want later, but right now my baby is crying and I need to make her feel better.

I take a ragged breath and employ every technique I can think to calm a child. I rock and coo, and grumble and groan. Then another thought crosses my hazed mind, another bad idea that surely wouldn't work. I cup my hand in front of Ellie's face, and blow. A scattering field of snow leaves my fingertips and flows over the child.

The effect is immediate.

Her eyes widen and her mouth hangs slack jawed. She grasps at the flakes and they turn to dust around her. She is enthralled. Frost peels off of her in slight nearly imperceptible curls, no one would notice, but I notice. She emits pleasant gurgles and looks up at me, expectant. I imagine her saying; _go on, do it again._

I comply.

She responds in kind with her own bouts of rudimentary frost and snow drifting about jerkily, nothing more than the impulse to do as I am doing.

I realize that she has calmed me down.

This is dangerous, but so am I. If nothing else at least we can band together and be a team. I cannot hurt her and she cannot hurt me. We are safe from each other and will protect each other from whatever the world may dare attempt to overthrow us with. She will always have me and I have her.

I laugh, and it is a good laugh. Ellie likes it; she wiggles her face around and shrieks in delight. We are happy and weather is good. I delay the running about and tell of my daughters new found powers in favour of settling down under the tree and watching the sky and the fjords.

Anna comes strolling by the path and I am forced to assume that she has a sixth sense for when things happen and where news awaits her. She smiles at me, a big round-cheeked grin. "Elsa, what are you doing out here?" She ambles towards me and I shuffle to the side, giving her adequate tree trunk to lean against as she sets herself down.

"It's a nice day and I wanted to get out of the castle."

"Mother's been looking for you."

"What for?"

"Nothing too important. She said something about treaties and documents. I expect you'll be able to deal with it later."

We pause and I force the words I need to say in to a sentence that works and say it before I overthink it, debate the merits of the good and the bad and the constant implications that never go away. "Ellie has magic."

Anna's eyes turn wide and her grin returns doubly so. "Really, that's amazing. How can you tell? Did something happen?"

"I had an idea, and, well, I showed her what to do, and she really liked it, and then she did it too." I explain, slightly embarrassed of my idea even though it worked far better than I could have ever hoped.

"She's going to be just like you. Elsa, she really is going to be amazing." Anna confides. "I know sometimes she might remind you of… _him, _but she's going to be great and people will spend a very long time remembering her and loving her."

"I hope so." I smooth down Ellie's hair and smile once again down at her; it's as if my mouth wants to make up for the times when smiling seemed as impossible as flying. "I want to do right by her, I don't know how, but I need to make sure everything works out for her."

"You will." Anna assures.

I choose to believe her, if only for my sanity. Mothers have come before me and mothers will come after. It is not a new thing and I am not special in that regard. We are special, Ellie and I, in our magic, but if I am good, and if I am wise, she will not come to hate herself and her abilities as I did.

"I should go find mother." I say, clambering to my feet while doing my utmost to keep Ellie from being jostled. "I probably need to sign something, I hate leaving things like that until late."

Anna stands beside me. "I'm going with you; I was actually looking for Kristoff and Kasper before I ran into you." She surveys the area, is dissatisfied with what she does not find, and shakes her head.

"What business do you have with the two of them together?" I question, worried for Kasper and the rigorous standards my family has set in place for him.

"Oh, nothing much, just tulip talk." Anna shrugs, a blush creeping up her neck and a grin breaking out to make yet another appearance. I persist with the wisdom that I must trust my family and that they will only do what they believe to be right, and while it may be infuriating to have such a poorly arranged set of secret meetings, it cannot come to any true and proper harm.

"Tulip talk… Alright." I make my away back to the castle with Anna by my side. Today is too good a day for worries.

* * *

**I hope you liked it. Leave a review. **

**I'm going to maintain a slightly longer update schedule for the next three weeks or so, just so that my life a school have a chance to calm down, but don't worry, once summer hits I'll be updating rapid fire. So the next chapter will be out on the 10th. **

**-Whovian123**


	89. Chapter 89

**Hulo all. I hope you are well. I'm doing pretty alright. **

**I'll let you get on with it.**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

"No." I mutter the word quietly to my mother, careful to keep Eleanor happy and asleep at my breast. "They can't do that, why would they do that, they were coming, just them. That's, that's an act of _war. _Warships, mean war, an armada does not come peacefully." I feel panic rise in my throat, it bubbles and coats my heart, hot and sticky.

"I don't understand it either." Mother whispers hurriedly. "That's just what we've been told. Word was sent up from Corona, the letter arrived this morning and I've been doing what I can to ready the kingdom for anything, there could be siege, or outright battle in the fjords. The castle hasn't been a battleground in centuries." She paces frantic around my study, her hand comes to what remains of her arm and she rubs franticly, as if cold. I start for a moment, worried about snow but then realize that I am blessedly controlled and Mother is merely a victim of panic. "I told Anna you needed to sign something; I didn't want to tell her yet. I don't want panic spreading around."

I nod. It is sensible. We do not know how the situation will evolve. Things could escalate, but they could also come to a quiet calm in which agreements are made and two peaceful nations go their separate ways.

"I'll tell her, I'll find her and I'll make sure she keeps quiet about it." I stammer, figuring that if Anna knows then we are a family united. The three of us have been though worse and will come out the other side of this ordeal with fight left in us.

I make for the door, my feet finding their own comfortable and assured way.

"It will be good." Mother calls back and then clarifies when she sees my confused and befuddled expression. "About Ellie, you and her having powers. It will be good, for the both of you." She smiles thinly and I do the same back as I duck out behind the door.

Locating Anna is no great challenge. I left her at the library with Kristoff, and she seems to have stayed there well into the evening.

I knock as softly as I can manage on the library door, mindful of Ellie and her persisting nap, then step into the room. Anna turns and smiles up at me from the window, her and Kristoff are perched shoulder to shoulder and seem to be reaching as far out without actually being outside as possible.

"Elsa." Smiles Anna. "What was it that Mother needed you for, anything all that important or just some signatures."

"It's important." I begin. "It's really not good." Anna and Kristoff's faces fall. "There's a Southern Isles armada on the way."

Kristoff splutters and stumbles forward, his arms raised in bewilderment. "But that means war! Surely they are not foul brained enough to call war?" His exclamation is altogether too loud and Ellie wakes up grumpy and crying.

Kasper chooses this opportune moment to stroll in the library. "It's all a mess; I don't know what to do." The foreign prince takes no notice of me and my frantic cooing and shushing as he stares down at something small in his hands.

"Is that so, Elsa?" Anna exclaims far too loudly. "Kaspers, there's an armada coming our way." She rushes over to the prince and bats him over the head with a far reaching arm.

Kasper grunts at the soft sting on his head and looks around the room for the first time, taking in my cooing and rocking form off to the side, Ellie's wails, Anna's fierce and demanding look, and an awkward Kristoff trying to signal something to Kasper with his eyes.

I chance a quick nod his way and a rushed smile. He returns the gesture, pocketing the something in his hands quickly, and then rushes over to me.

He is awkward with Ellie but accepts her as I pass her to him, needing several moments in which to collect myself. "An armada? Really?" He questions, positioning the delicate girl in his hands as if he is worried of breathing on her too hard and shattering her to bits.

"As far as we know, better to take it as truth and over prepare instead of under." I answer, fending off a yawn as I stretch my arms and rotate my shoulders.

Kaspers eyes darken as he reaches over Ellie toward my face, taking hold of my cheek in a cupped hand and inspecting my eyes. "You look exhausted." He offers lamely, remember himself and the screaming child in his arms, and retracting his hand.

"I am, and now there's this. Who knows what they think they can get, and how many people might die if they try anything. Armadas have cannons; most of Arendelle is within firing range from the fjord…" I panic for my city, and my people, and the manic nature of it all. "The fjords will all have to be blocked off, goods will have to be transported to the city differently, we can't risk someone dangerous getting through."

My mind spirals further and further into what can go wrong and all the terrible things that are bound to be said and threatened. My little girl, this new person in my world that has consumed me so entirely with love and dedication, will be a bargaining chip in their plans for dominance.

"That's enough." Anna displays her outrageous force of presence by demanding that the general panic and noise of the room dissipate, even Ellie has the good sense to quiet down, lest she feel her aunt's great wrath. "Elsa, you are a mess. You have not slept nearly enough in the last few days, that was fine this morning when you were going to have a simple day, but this is not simple, and you cannot power through this." She marches over to Kasper, arms outstretched. "Kristoff and I will take care of Ellie tonight," I go to protest, but Anna is forging on before I can so much as speak, "I won't hear a word against it, Ellie will be fine, I promise, and Kasper is going to make sure you actually get some rest. Mother and I will deal with provisions and the initial preparedness plans. Ok?" Anna pauses, looking to me for signs of defeat.

"Ok." My shoulders slump and my heart ache's for my daughter already, though I know she will be safe in the hands or her aunt, uncle, and grandmother.

"Good." Anna continues. "If you sleep in we might let you help tomorrow."

Anna leaves, making for my study, with Ellie tucked against her chest, newly quiet, and Kristoff in tow. I take several breaths in the unfamiliar silence, my chest too light without the tiny dependent body folded against it. Kasper meets my gaze, which I suspect is looking rather distraught, and wordlessly pulls me against his own chest.

My throat tightens and I bite down on my tongue, trying to keep stinging pain at the forefront of my mind. Kasper is an encompassing presence, his arms are rope, wrapping round tight and keeping me strung up, off the ground and out of the mud.

Maybe I am more tired than I realize.

I am most certainly overwhelmed.

Warm muscles contract and coil under me as Kasper stretches down and around to catch me under my knees and pick me up. I am lulled against his chest and the steady stepping of his feet rock me as waves do a boat. Recognition for where I am and where I am going drift about in my head; I am being taken to my room.

"You held her." I remark simply. "You held her for the first time." Kasper had been reluctant to hold Ellie in all opportunities prior to the library kerfuffle. I had been worried, not openly, somewhere in my head so far back it was never more than the shadow of a thought, that he didn't love her, or that she scared him more than she should. I do not expect to be a simple perfect fairy-tale family, but I do hope Kasper can manage being a father to a child that is not his own.

It is rather an unprecedented circumstance that I am sure neither of us could have hoped to dream up more than a year ago. He would have been tucked away outside the world in his little northern paradise that I really must visit sometime when there is altogether less war happening around me. I would have been holed up in my room, dreading my coronation with my every breath, waking and otherwise.

The idea of a family would never have crossed my mind, not then, not ever for who I was then. That me, the me so afraid to breathe, because what if something happened and someone got hurt, would never have reconciled with the idea of being in someone's arms, or of being the mother to a perfect fragile child.

"I'm, well, I'm not quite sure how to be around her." Kasper confesses. "She's beautiful, precious, and special, but above all she's yours. Sometimes I don't know how I fit into that." He is encouragingly open, possible suspecting that I am too tired to make heads or tails of anything, which I am not.

I bite down on my cheek to keep a yawn at bay and then answer Kaspers alluded to question. "Words and letters in a book do not know their place, they are put where they will by things they do not understand and hope blindly that they are doing what they ought to to the overall work."

He laughs a little and I am glad of it. It is a sound that makes my heart do strange things; I suspect I will never get enough of it. "You've gone mad." He smiles at me.

"I think I may have." I nod up at him and the yawn I had been wrestling with breaks loose. Maybe I haven't been adjusting to the frequent nighttime interruptions as well as I thought I had. "Being mad doesn't stop me from being able to walk, you do know that right?" I remember myself and begin to feel rather foolish having been scooped up and carried to bed as if I were a child of three.

"Of course I do, but I didn't need you stubbornly insisting that you were fine and that you will get to bed sometime reasonable and that I need not worry,because I do worry whether I ought to or not." Kasper gives me a knowing look as I begin to argue and insist that I am an adult capable of dictating when I go to bed, I think better of it when I reflect upon my shoddy sleeping habits.

I am released from the deceptively comforting cradle of Kaspers arms as he comes to my door. He turns the handle with a flick of his wrist and sets his hand against the small of my back, leading me inside. I forget my feet as I walk, altogether too focused on the warmth of his fingers.

My chest begins to work far too fast and I come to the absolute realization that Kasper is right, I have gone rather mad. I stop just past the doorway, just far enough to let Kasper step though with me, then I turn around.

He isn't expecting it.

I catch his other hand, the hand that had trailed off the handle. I bring it up and press my palm to his palm, letting my chill and his warmth mix in the place where one person ends and the other beings. His other hand shifts from my back, traces across to rest at my waist.

Kasper looks at me, and I look at him. I swallow and blink. Then rise to the tips of my toes, and, before I can think of anything else; I kiss him.

It is slow and patient and reverent. It twists down inside my chest and wraps its long fingers of warmth around my heart. My free arm grasps at his shirt, taking a fist full of the soft cotton and creasing it to bits as I pull us closer together.

Our pressed palms turn quickly into a mess of intertwined fingers.

Then I ease myself back to my heels and open my eyes, not quite remembering that I had closed them. Kasper does the same with his; they are blue in an extreme invigorated way.

"Your place is here." I try to make the right words come, something that in any way reflects the muddled air, lightness, and important weight, in my chest. "You have a home here, you always will."

He nods. "I know, and I know things take time to settle."

I yawn again, proving once more that I should be in bed.

Kasper takes his leave, awkward and doting as I assure him that I will go straight to bed and not wake too early.

I do as I promise and stumble to my closet, locate a night gown, and then slip beneath the billowing quilt of my bed. Only when I have had a moment to reflect and breathe in silence and stillness to I realize that I did not flinch. I was close to Kasper, and he was close to me, and I took the initiative.

I kissed him.

There was no memory of Hans, or what he did. It was Kasper and me, us, together, nothing more.

I begin to miss Ellie, her weight and her breathing have become constants that I crave. I trust in her safety with Anna, and am grateful of the chance to sleep, but the news of the Southern Isles is not forgotten in my love addled and lonely mind.

Then I am asleep, overcome with a yawn and the urge to close my eyes.

* * *

**Soo? I wasn't a hundred percent sure about this chapter. Let me know how it holds up. **

**Next chapter comes out on the 17th. After that things should be normalizing in the way of updates and the end is nigh! **

**-Whovian123**


	90. Chapter 90

**So... I'm sorry, really, really, sorry. **

**I am OK, not dead or dying as you might have worried. **

**I'm so sorry. **

**Life, finals, and a whole lot of stuff knocked me on my ass and I sat there for a while sorting it out. **

**If any of you are still around and don't hate me with the heat of a thousand fiery suns, I have a chapter for you.**

**-Whovian123**

* * *

I wake abruptly and uneasily. I miss her, the startling absence of Ellie rages through my body before my mind remembers that she is with Anna, and has not been stolen away in the night by a ruthless gang of thieves wearing the colours of The Southern Isles.

My breathing normalizes and my hands uncurl from fists that had flung to my chest in my ill-conceived frenzy. Propping myself up with my arms I peer out the window. The sun is hidden behind thick watery clouds. If I had to guess I would hazard the time to be several hours after breakfast but still a way off until lunch. I have slept for a remarkable amount of hours.

Pushing all thoughts of sleep aside I swing myself to my feet, dress myself, and head out to the halls with the single minded determination of a mother looking for their child.

It keeps me from thinking about The Southern Isles, keeps me from thinking about the dream from last night that I am now half remembering. It comes in waves and bits and pieces as dreams that have fled do. It creeps along with its tail between its legs, and then reveals itself to be a terrible battle for my daughter. They were in the castle, faceless, nameless, soldiers.

I couldn't protect her. I couldn't keep her safe the same way I could never keep myself safe. My powers danced out of grasp every time I reached for them, and the men advanced in spite of my pleading and my crying. They took her.

We screamed, me for her, and her for me.

Then I woke up.

I try to ignore the returning memories, the little details filtering into place as I search the dining hall and the gardens for my baby, growing steadily more worried as she continues to evade me. My pace increases, as does my heart rate. The study, it would make perfect sense for Anna and Mother to be pouring over books and maps in the study. Ellie would be there with them.

She is, to my great and unwarranted relief, in my study. Mother has her tucked close to her chest and fast asleep while maps and charts are spread out on all flat surfaces available. "Elsa." Mother says, looking up as I ease through the door, weary of disturbing the elaborate and percarious layout. "If the situation were dire would you be ab;eto put several tones of meat and fruit on ice."

I am taken aback by the question, but answer it duly. "Yes, of course."

Mother nods.

I make my way to her, picking a careful hopping path past several ocean maps that Anna is circling around slowly, her fingers twitching as she traces routes and mumbles about whales.

I take back my baby, who is still sleeping quietly, and address why we need such quantities of food preserved. "We are preparing for war and siege then?" It is posed as a question, masquerades as one, but it is not. I know the answer as well as anyone. War is unpleasant and foul and something we cannot ignore. Worst case scenarios happen when you ignore them. We ward off war by expecting it.

"We've sent out letters detailing the circumstance of… well, everything, and have asked all current trade partners for aid of any sort, baring that we have requested that the armada be refused provisions and docking." Anna answers in a roundabout fashion.

"You should have woken me up." I say. "I am Queen, this is my country that's being threatened. I would like to have some piece in how we fend off the army coming for us." I know I should be grateful for Anna and my mother's constant help. They work and work and I never seem to have to do anything, but it comes with me feeling inadequate. I would rather like to know I can do my job properly and clean up the mess I have made.

"Really, it's fine." Anna insists, with mother nodding behind her. "It keeps up busy and I have developed the need to know what's going on where after learning all about the inner workings of this place."

I huff and make my careful way to the large carved desk anchoring the room. It seems to be the heart of the mess, where things started, and, hopefully, where they make the most sense.

There are several maps, one of the fjords, one of The Southern Isles, and several of the land masses and oceans in-between. Notes and crude images have been jotted down here and there. "Do we have a current location yet?" I ask, wondering how fast an armada can travel and how large this specific one may be.

"Only estimated." Mother chimes in. "We are working under the assumption that they are going to be at our door step within the next two weeks, maybe longer, but… better prepared than not."

"How are we preparing?"

"Food stores." Anna answers this time. I turn about to meet her gaze. "Which you have agreed to place on ice so we can keep the fresh stuff… fresh. An army is also being mobilized, Arendelle isn't all that focused on our militia, but we are by no means unprepared."

I gnaw at the inside of my cheek. "So we've settled on war then? Is there to be any attempt at appeasement, or reasoning?" My chest clenches and pools with worry at the thought of war. I clutch Ellie with renewed vigor and pray she does not have to face the agonizing screams of thousands of dying men, men dying for her.

"Appeasement." Mother chides from behind me, I turn about once more to face her. "What do we have to barter with, what do they want that we have? We have one thing that they want, the little girl in your arms. We could offer them her," Mother's voice raises. "We can give then my first grandchild, and your firstborn. I just didn't think the idea was a very good one."

"I didn't mean that." I mumble, looking down at Ellie, my sweet sleeping baby. She grumbles and twists as Mother continues.

"Violence isn't pretty, and war is grotesque, but it is effective. Sometimes you have to face it and hit the other party before they can hit you." Mother insists, finality creeping into the air as I am forced to silence. Peace is a beautiful idea, I wonderful thought, but it is an idea for times of peace, or when you have everything you need, perhaps even when you lack the advantage.

"Do we let it be known, what we are preparing the army for? Or do we pretend it's nothing." I balk at the public knowledge of our nation's perilous position, but know that it is rather a necessary thing to be known.

"It will be known in good time, the soldiers have all been informed of why they were abruptly gathered up. People do like to know why they are being made to leave their families." Mother explains, picking up a map and seeming to be rather disappointed with what it shows her.

"Of course." I mumble; straining to uncover what might be so unpleasant about a map.

Anna chances a small smile and begins explaining which maps are out for what reason and whereabouts the armada was last seen and where it could have gone in the time since then. Their estimates add up and I begin seeing the days in my head. We'll negotiate; of course. It will likely prove a waste of time and an altogether fruitless endeavor, but I simply must throw one final effort into keeping peace. Mother may be right in her knowing that war is more likely than anything else, but I have to maintain that no family is brought up all as bad as Hans. Evil isn't genetic, it can't be.

Ellie garbles at my chest and makes her confusion and irritation known with a drawn out shriek. I leave my mother and sister to their work, content that it really is what needs doing and that they can do it for me, just this once.

Keeping the small girl in my arms secure and rocking vaguely, I wander down the halls, looking for something to do with myself until Ellie quiets down enough to focus with a clear head. Her disgruntlement proves resilient as she whines and cries in intermittent patches each one apart from the last just enough to convince me she's settled down.

"Don't worry about this armada business." I coo for her, wondering if noise, of any kind, such as babbling, might help. "I'll keep you safe, always… promise. Ok, always, forever, until time ends and then even after that." I know she doesn't understand.

I know it's just noise to her, that my words aren't even words. She's too young for anything to make sense. If so little makes sense to me why on earth would a baby understand the specifics behind being safe, and being threated, or just how long forever is and how honest I am when I say I will protect her.

"Maybe I'll explain it later, sometime eventually. I'll tell you about the armada, and about your…" My chest tightens as the word builds. "Hans." I remember his eyes and see them with hers. She will not look like him, she looks like me. I know she does, but she will still have those eyes. "Before all of that I'll make sure you know about my childhood, the good part, before I hurt Anna. You're powers are special. You are special. Nothing about that will ever be anything but good and perfect. You are who you are meant to be and I promise that you will always be the best thing in my life." I smile down and her and she stares with large keen eyes up at me. Maybe she does not understand the specifics of words, but I am convinces she understands the gist.

"Is the position of second best open?"

I feel my chest tighten and my stomach turn to knots for entirely different reasons. "Would you settle for fourth?" I say over my shoulder. "I've got a waiting list and that's the best I can do. Really, I shouldn't even give you that much, there are a few people that will be very disappointed in me."

"That's fine." Smiles Kasper. "I don't mind, not at all. As long as I get to stick around and see you once in a while." He walks around to rest beside me.

"Maybe a little more than once in a while." I quip; smoothing Ellie's hair back as she begins to settle down for what I hope will be a while. "I like you, just a little bit."

He smiles bashfully and tangles his finger though his hair. "Only a little bit?"

"You know it's more than that. You know what you mean to me." I respond without thinking, my eyes trained on Ellie as I suddenly begin to worry that something is afoot.

"I don't really. I am the father of your child, emotionally, so I know where I stand with Ellie, but her loyalties are easily bought with singing and naps." Kasper scratches along his beard and avoids my worried gaze. "You, well, you're a puzzle with no edge pieces. You seem to like me well enough, but you never really… established where we are… Not that I'm asking for anything, of course. Really, I don't know what I'm saying. There's an armada coming this way, really, I don't need to be adding to your stress."

"No, it's fine. It's weird, we are… weird." I begin walking down the hall, struggling to make heads or tails of why Kasper is walking so stiffly and why he is needing reassurance that he has never needed before.

"Good weird?"

"Yes."

We amble through the castle keeping up small stilted talk. Kasper flits back and forth between seeming confident and sure, and then about-facing to scared and timid. My chest is unreasonably light and my heart unreasonably fast. The halls feel like wide and long fields, endless and immeasurable. Kasper, Ellie, and I wander as the thing that makes sense within it all.

"Have you written to your family since getting back?" I ask conversationally, my eyes trained on Elle, who is now blessedly asleep. "I'm sure they want to know that you are safe. I expect I'll meet them some day."

When there is no reply I look for Kasper. I see him several steps behind me, stuck in place with one hand rammed into his coat pocket and the other scratching against his jaw, a nervous tick of his.

"Kasper…?" I stop and turn around, feet shuffling and hands tighter against Ellie, already she has become a lifeline of sorts for me.

"You will. You will meet them, and maybe we can give them a reason to visit." Kasper stays away from me, it cannot be more than six feet of space, but it feels like a chasm, or a wall, something in the way.

"Probable war isn't a very good reason for them to visit."

"Do you want to marry me?"

He startles me, jolts me with his words really. I don't expect it, maybe I should have. Maybe I ignored the thought because I didn't want to be hopeful, didn't want to address the fact that he had been alluding to forever with me and Ellie.

"What?" I panic aloud, my mouth deciding that I need to say things.

"Because I want to marry you, I want to marry you very much." He looks remarkably earnest, pleading almost, honest and bared before me. "I understand what a right mess we are, and that nothing about us will ever be a little bit normal, but I want that. We can have a long engagement, if you want, to keep people from talking; really it doesn't matter to me, the talking or the long engagement."

His hand comes out of his pocket; a small glittering circle twirls between his fingers. He looks up to me, his eyes tied to mine.

"Is that… Have you been..?"

"Yes, I've been carrying it around with me, I came really close a few times, but I wanted it to be perfect, then I realized that I couldn't wait for it to be perfect. I just wanted it to happen. I needed to ask you." He looks at the ring and then back to me. "I love you, I know I do. It's beyond reasoning and beyond sanity. I know that no other place in the world could ever seem so perfectly right. So, will you marry me?"

My stomach clenches and I imagine that it would not be strange if I were to pass out and collapse on to the ground. It doesn't feel real, or possible. "Yes."

Kasper's mouth turns up in a blatant and unapologetic grin, and he takes several careful steps forward. "That is an enormous relief."

"Is it?" I meet Kasper with my own calculated steps taken with feet that feel numb and unstable. "Because you really shouldn't have been worried, because I love you. I do, and I forever sounds very good, if it's with you, because I was convinced for a long time that I wouldn't get a family, and I told myself I didn't need one, that I didn't want one."

He looks down at Ellie, occupying the space between us and staring intently at the ceiling, politely not screaming or yelling. I remind myself to thank her for it later. Then he looks back at me. "This is going to take some careful balancing, and the promise of singing or naps, but I'd like to get this ring on your finger." He lets out a relieved chuckle as he says it.

I shift Ellie further into the crook of my right elbow, keeping careful that she doesn't suddenly have the desire to wriggle about and roll violently. Kasper takes the ring, it's simple and clean and I don't care. The diamond doesn't matter; I don't see it. The metal is soft and Kaspers fingers are warm, he slips the circle up my finger and then takes my hand.

"Do you want to take a walk, or something of the sort, the three of us?" He asks his face bright and delightful.

"Yes." I answer; baffled and delighted with the turn my day has taken. "That sounds good, very good."

* * *

**I'm sorry, again. Let me know what you thought. **

**If nothing unforeseen happens I should be able to get a chapter up on the 6th. **

**Sorry. **

**Really, I am very sorry.**

**-Whovian123**


	91. Chapter 91

**Hello. I am mostly on time with this update, as of now in my time zone I am 38 minutes late getting this up, but it's better than last time. I'm slowly getting back on top of everything.**

**Hope you enjoy that chapter. **

**-Whovian123**

* * *

"Shhh, it's ok, I promise you'll be fine." I whisper though Ellie's wailing. "It's just a nap." She balls her fists and throws them around, battering with all her might at my arms. "Please, just, sleep. That's why you're feeling bad, you're tired, just tired. Sleeping would fix that. Just sleep." She ignores me and shoots out puffs of frost with each scream. "Please, please, please, sleep."

I gnaw at my cheek and give in. I can hold her for a moment, or several. She is going to sleep eventually, she has to, and my arms are as good a place as any. I take her to the window and push her screaming to the back of my mind. "See, you scream and scream for me to hold you, and even when I do you still don't quiet down. I know it's nothing else, you're fed, and clean, completely clean." I sigh and twiddle my fingers above her, sending out swirls and patterns of frost and snow. Those have historically calmed Ellie down.

She quiets somewhat, yet maintains cries loud enough, and frequent enough, for me to know that she is disgruntled. With a lucky swing she manages to grab hold of one of my fingers and clutches it tighter that I believed such small hands could. She brings it to her mouth and sucks on it, finally settling on a quieter activity that the serenade previous, an activity that, if I am exceptionally lucky, may even lead to the much needed nap.

Perhaps, even, if she does indeed nap, as I so desire for her, I might be able to steal several moments of sleep for myself, something I am also in need of. I bite back a yawn and focus out the window. There is a marvelous view of the fjords sprawled out beside the castle. I have developed the compulsive habit of frequently checking the water and seeing that it is void of war ships.

Save several merchant ships, and miscellaneous others, there is nothing of note. I pull myself away from the window, knowing it holds nothing but worry and feeling resolutely that I shall have none of that today.

I ease Ellie down into her crib, carefully minding her head and holding my breath as her nose scrunches and her head turns. She grumbles and quiets, blessedly silent and perfectly asleep. "Thank you." I whisper as I make for the door with slow steps, easing my feet to the ground as I avoid every creaking floor board, the places of which I have recently memorized.

As the door shuts behind me I let a slow and long breath, exhausted by the rebellious streak Ellie has taken with her naps, and relived that she did not wake at the squeezing door hinges, something I know I will have to have looked at, at the earliest opportunity.

I twist the ring on my finger, knowing that I really should tell Anna and my mother about it. I'm rather embarrassed by the idea of a fiancé. It feels private and important to keep close to my chest, something for Kasper and myself and no one else.

I spent my morning avoiding most people, save Ellie, unsure of myself and quite what to say. It's going to seem rushed, and foolish. I warned Anna about this very thing during my coronation, I dislike the idea of having to explain to her that I have ignored my own advice and have gotten myself engaged abruptly.

My feet wander down the halls. It catches my eye again, the ring. It consumes a large part of my thought. It's a simple thin band with a small glittering diamond on it. Kasper told me its story as he, Ellie, and I ambled about the scenic hills and shoreline of Arendelle. It's not a partially extensive story, the diamond was brought back from his trip home, he seems to have been planning and thinking much further forward than I had given him credit for. He arranged for it to be set in a band with a jeweller in Arendelle, the initial results were much less than he had hoped for. With a laugh and a smile he had explained that he had been on his way to show Anna and Kristoff the poor result when he walked in on Ellie and I making a ruckus two days ago.

He told me that the instant he left me that night he ran through the halls and out to the city. He found a new jeweller and watched through the night as the man worked. Kasper explained that the tradesman was more than helpful when he explained the specifics of his predicament and how he regretted every moment he had not pulled the ring from his pocket and asked.

I smile and chew on my lip. I suppose Anna would know then, or at the very least be expecting me to tell her something about Kasper and my potential ties to him.

Letting my ringed hand fall back to my side I work out where to find my sister. There was no one to be seen in my study earlier, I spent the better part of the morning there with Ellie and several stacks of letters and documents.

Olaf saunters around a corner, smiles, and calls my name.

"Olaf!" I smile. "Where have you been, you little snowy rascal."

"OUTSIDE!" The snowman exclaims; his arms up in celebration. His affinity towards the outdoors during the warmer months is incredible and eccentric for a creature made almost entirely of snow.

"And what mischief where you making?" I banter with him, hoping that in his mischief making he has seen or heard something that will be useful.

"None at all." Olaf assures, rather quickly for my tastes. "I was with Anna. She's out in the gardens."

"Would you happen to know where she is in the gardens?" I ask, thanking my luck and Olaf's tendency to be just right where I need him to be. "I have something to tell her."

"What do you want to tell her?" Olaf's eyes turn to wide orbs and his mouth drops open in wonder.

"Well… I'm not sure if I should be telling you just yet… but if you promise me that you can keep it a secret, then I'll tell you. Also, you have to tell me where in the gardens Anna is." I feed the snowman's excitement, allowing myself a reserved bout of flustering joy at the prospect of an eventual marriage, the forever of being with Kasper, and him being assured in his love for me.

Olaf nods rapidly and agrees.

"Kasper proposed to me yesterday… and I said yes."

"Oh my gosh! Really? Kasper's so great! When are you getting married?" He jumps from foot to foot, gushing and twirling madly in the hallway. "Can I be in the wedding, does he have a best man, Sven was Kristoff's best man. Can I be Kasper's best snowman, please, please, Elsa, please." His flurry seems to draw off his energy and he leaves everything coated with an impressive layer of snow.

"Well, we haven't had time to sort out the details yet." I explain. "But you did promise that you would be telling me where Anna was."

"She was by the tulips." Olaf calls over his shoulder, bounding down the hall, hopefully not to spread the news before I get the chance.

"You promised to keep it a secret..." My words trail away, said more for my sake than Olaf's. I doubt the frosty snowman can contain any sort of secret news. He appears to not hear me and quickly disappears behind the corner.

I sigh and set out for the gardens, determined to spread the news myself to at least one person.

The day is on the edge of warm and I allow myself a moment to breathe in the scent of it. I still prefer the winter and the cold, by far, but I am starting to respect the necessity of heat and have reached a sort of balance with it, accepting it. A breeze picks up as I weave about the trees and hedges, admiring the gardening and finely clipped lines, trying to remember where exactly the tulips are.

I catch a glimpse of rich red where red normally is not and follow it though several tangles of branches and bushes, to find a elaborate pattern of purple and yellow tulips. Anna is sitting against a tree trunk and staring at the sky and flowers, her hair reflecting the sun rather well and casting the red I had seen.

"Anna." I catch her attention, waving and smiling, my hand feeling all too obvious with the glittering ring. She looks my way and returns the smile, shifting over to offer me a place to sit. I accept and begin to worry that I may not have the words to explain why I'm wearing an engagement ring.

"Where have you been all morning?" I gnaw on my cheek and settle for small talk. "I looked around for anybody a little earlier, I couldn't find you or mother."

"Oh, I was with Kristoff, he surprised me with a morning picnic on the mountains, he says he loves the way they look in spring." She smiles a wistful smile as her mind goes back to her husband and his affinity for picnics and mountains. "We saw mother as we left… she was going to visit papa. She misses him. I miss him"

My chest seizes up as it does when I think of my father, when I remember how close I was to saving him, how I failed and how it is my fault there is a stone to visit. I remember his dead eyes and the night surrounding his death. I shiver and press on. "We all miss him… Has she, well, do you think it's been better for her, lately, just, everything, nightmares, and worrying."

"I think so; I think the armada is helping." Anna explains. "She spends so much time working out how to prepare, how to fight, and how to stay safe and strong. I think it helps her to feel more in control. It's almost as if being on the other side of The Southern Isles this time is making her feel better, less, violated. it might not be the healthiest way to cope, but it is better than waking up in a cold sweat."

"As long as it helps." I stare at the sky, finding patterns in the scattered clouds and watching the sun beams. We let silence fall into place and out breathing comes to match one another's, slow and synchronized.

"Enough of that," Anna starts abruptly, her tone switching to a cheery one. "Let's not let that bring us down. Are you going to tell me to story behind that new ring on your finger?" She flashes me a toothy grin and winks. "It better have been perfect and romantic, he never did tell me which proposal he settled on."

"How did you? What? You are too observant for your own good." I stammer, embarrassed.

"I've been checking your hands for some time now, just in case he decided he had had enough of the waiting, he always seemed very eager to get the asking over with when he mentioned it, which was most every time I have spoken to him within the last two weeks."

I offer my hand to Anna and she sets about inspecting the ring, meticulously going over the craftsmanship and the sheen of the metal. "He asked me out of the blue, asked me if I would like to marry him, there wasn't much lead up to it." I admit, blushing in spite of myself, loving the memory that I hope will be a treasured one the in the future. "I was walking through the halls with Ellie, just saying things to keep her happy, and I ran into him, or maybe he was looking for me. We spoke, and then he said it. I nearly dropped Ellie. I couldn't believe it."

"That would have been a sight to see." Anna chuckles softy. "I'm happy for you Elsa, I really am."

"I can't help but feel that l am being a hypocrite. I remember distinctly telling you that you cannot marry a man you just met, yet I'm engaged to a man I have not known for the entirety of a year." I voice the slight fear in the back of my mind that, while everything feels fine in my heart, I know the numbers add up poorly and to rather a large grouping of sensible people, such as my citizens, it is going to sound and seem rushed.

"Elsa. I have listened to that love-struck boy talk about you for more hours that I care to count. And yes, perhaps my fist engagement was a rather poor choice, but that is cancelled out by my successful second one, so I consider myself fully qualified to judge engagements." She turns to me and implores with sincerity. "If you know that you love him and that he is a man you will love all through your life as time drags on and you grow old, then timing doesn't matter." Her tone shifts once more and lightness creeps back into the air. "There is also the option of a long engagement. No one outside the castle has to know."

"It might be a little late for that." I confess, bashful. "I may have told Olaf."

Anna laughs a glorious hearty chuckle. "Well, in that case the entire city will know by now."

* * *

**So? Did it work? I promise you that there will be action very soon, that armada is on it's way and very close.**

**I will have another update up on the 15th. **

**-Whovian123**


	92. Chapter 92

**Hello. **

**New chapter for all you lovely folks. **

**It is late (by 14 minutes (it was originally only six minutes but then my internet broke)) but I hope it is worth it. **

**-Whovian123**

* * *

"Mama?" My voice is gentle and soft, both for my mother's benefit, as she is kneeling before the large fresh tombstone with my father's name engraved in harsh lines, and for Ellie's benefit, as I managed to keep her quiet and sleeping during my trek from the castle to the hill.

My mother's shoulders shiver as I break her reverent silence. "Yes?" She mumbles; the question an afterthought as she clasps the curve of stone in her hand and maneuvers herself back to her feet.

I remember that Olaf has likely not yet worked his way to the hill and that my mother will not know about my recent engagement. I also remember that Ellie has never once been outside the palace gates and thinks the far reaches of the world consist simply of royal gardens. She has not yet been introduced to my father. "Just… Anna said you were up here… and I didn't want you to be alone." Ellie grumbles and drools down her front while snoring. "And Ellie hasn't met her grandfather yet."

Mother's head turns as I mention Ellie. "We have the new princess here I see." She moves to stand nearer me and coos at Ellie, her eyes refreshingly light in the face of new life after mourning that which has been lost.

"Would you be inclined to introduce her to her grandfather?" I offer Ellie carefully, wishing fiercely in my chest that I would never have to let her go for the slightest of seconds. My mother takes her carefully in her arm and looks to my father's gravestone.

"I would…" She rocks Ellie back and forth. "This," she points to the rock, "is where your grandfather is. He is- was, a beautiful wonderful man. He would have loved you; he would have loved you so much." We settle side by side in front of the stone. I wrap my arm our my mother's shoulder, keeping her close in a hug, wrestling with the downward tugging at my heart when I think about Ellie never being able to truly know my father. "He would have protected you, and loved you, so so much. He was so good; he was such a good man. He will keep you safe, from wherever he might be, if he is somewhere, he'll keep you safe, forever. I will too. Nothing will ever hurt you, I promise. We'll keep you safe."

I lean my head against hers, marvelling at how fragile and small the two of them seem. When did I get to be this tall? How am I taller than my mother? "I can't believe she's being this quiet." I whisper. "She made a terrible fuss earlier when I tried to put her down for a nap." My throat tightens. "I wish she had a family that made a little more sense. I know that we love her, and that she will always be loved, but, I wish she could have a proper traditional family. I can't stop worrying about her, what her life will be like, who she will be. What I'm going to do wrong."

"You're a mother." My mother answers, her voice watery and high. "I still worry about you. It never ends." She lets out a weak chuckle.

"Do you think he would be happy with everything, would Papa? I just- I wonder if he would think I am doing things the right way. With… Hans, and the armada, and Ellie. Am I a good mother? Am I doing things the right way?" I wade though rising panic. "I feel like I'm drowning in it. I want to be the best for her, I never planned for her, I didn't expect or want her and now I'm worried about her being able to tell. I would never giver her up, or undo it. I love her and can't breathe without her, and I feel like I am going to be a failure." I choke out the last words, floodgates of worry breaking free and overwhelming me.

"You love her; you love her with the pure and unending love of an earnest mother doing her best." My mother says. "That's the best anyone can do."

Biting back my sorrow and worry I come to my point. "I should probably mention, the reason I came looking for you before Olaf could track you down. I… well, Kasper asked me to marry him. I've said yes, and I wanted to make sure you knew from me, and not a snowman." I fiddle with the ring, again, the habit soothing when I consider just how long Kasper spent considering the ring and the question and the life that would follow.

"I know."

"What? H- How could you know?" I stammer, confused and almost on the verge of irked with just how many people seem to have known for some time before me.

"He asked for my blessing."

He asked for her blessing, of course he did. He sought out my sister, and laboured though ideas and every way to make it special. Then he asked my mother for her blessing. I smile for myself and my fortune regarding my fiancé. "When did he do that? When did he even have the chance? Anna said he was worrying about preparation, and the ring."

"I don't remember when, but I was in your study, working. You were sleeping, you had just had Ellie." My mother recalls; nodding to Ellie as she is mentioned. "He said he saw the two of you, Ellie and you, and knew that his place could never be anywhere else. He's such a nervous one, but he didn't waver when he asked. I don't approve of how fast the two of you are doing this, but I remember when I met your father and that on that very same day I decided I was going to marry him. That particular incident could have been luck mixed with stubbornness, but I trust your judgment and know that sometimes fresh love does endure."

Ellie decides that she is done sleeping and is going to instead make as much noise as she can. Mother coos and rocks her quietly before returning her to me. The long slow cries are not lessened considerably, but the weight in my arms and at my chest dispels the worry and reminds me of what's at stake and how wonderful my daughter is.

"It was so quiet here. Sorry to have invaded your evening." I apologize, rocking Ellie and soothing her best I can. It does little in the way of helping.

"It was too quiet. I don't like to be alone in the quiet too long; reminds me of other times, other places. I need to stay here, grounded in right now." Mother muses, returning her reverent gaze to the tombstone.

"I- um, I can go back, if you want to be alone with here for a little while longer, it will be quiet again, but I don't think the quiet really matters to you when he's around." I nod to the stone and gnaw on my cheek, trying to navigate my mother and where she stands with the death of my father, as it is not quite so searing and fresh.

She nods. "I'll be back for dinner, but I think you might be right. It's not really the same quiet with him."

I nod in turn and step away from her and the stone. They need time to be alone, or rather, my mother does. Thoughts are clearer when not stifled by the stale air of the castle and her guard will relax with the thoughts of my father's spirit and soul close by.

My walk back to the castle is slow and meandering as Ellie only seems inclined to calm down when she can see the mountains. For a brief time I take careful steps backwards to keep them in her sight. I wonder if I might take her to see what remains of my ice castle someday. The damage about it seems inconsequential and meaningless now. I can fix it. Ellie can fix it. Broken things do not have to stay broken forever.

As the castle comes into view I see a distressing number of guards, among them are several recently rallied soldiers. Security has been increased tenfold since the armada was first reported, but I had seen that only from the inside, observing the men from outside on the hill is frightening. It had been quite the task to convince them that Ellie and I would be safe outside for a walk.

My hands tighten around Ellie as I commit myself back to the high walls and the castle within. I am flanked by a hallway of guards, which I do my best to ignore, before coming to the large double doors. Inside is better, marginally. The guards are lessened within the walls, but the presence still persists. I find myself wishing, once again, that the armada would disappear and that The Southern Isles would cease to be a cumbersome problem.

I find that Olaf seems to have made rather efficient rounds, at least, within the confines of the castle. I am congratulated often on my engagement, though several times I catch specific glints in the eyes of warm guards that speaks to their suspicion over my second abrupt and sudden engagement to a foreign prince.

It seems bizarre, my being willing to marry so soon. I have the awareness to know that from any perspective all that I have done is lunacy to my citizens and the people outside of my family. I scarcely believe that my own family has not turned on me and questioned Kaspers intentions and my soundness of mind. I breathe through the haze of worry and reasons to panic.

Deciding that there is no space left in my head for worry I make my way through the halls, ambling slightly though longer paths with interesting tapestries to entertain Ellie. She is steadfast in rebellion of sleep but has seemed to content herself with being quiet and looking around eagerly.

After pointing out and naming as many Kings and Queen of Arendelles past as I can remember we round the corner and I find myself directly in Kaspers path. His face lights up as he stumbles and catches himself before toppling over. "Elsa." He smiles though my name.

"Kasper." I return the sentiment.

Ellie babbles senseless noise in response.

"Oh yes, and you Ellie." Kasper smiles down at her. "Not one to be forgotten and one for theatrics. I expect you will be very good at being Queen." Ellie watches him intently, her gaze altogether too piercing for someone so young. "Stern." Kasper nods. "Just like your mother, very much like her. Stern on the outside when she's scared. But, of course, a softie on the inside, and perfect, absolutely perfect, too."

"You're going to spoil her with complements." I insist. "Even if they are all true, about her at least."

"You sell yourself fabulously short." Kasper persists. "But, I digress; I was going to see if I could find you. I intended to take my fiancé to dinner, or rather, accompany her to the communal dinner being prepared for her castle and those within." He holds his hand out expectantly.

I grimace.

"You were doing so well. It was all so eloquent, but my hands are tied." I nod down to Ellie; the girl is tucked against my chest and rests heavily on my arms. Kasper blinks twice and then curses under his breath, pauses for a moment as he realizes again that Ellie is there, curses once more, and then silences himself with a hand over his mouth.

"I'm sorry." He manages the words without further cursing and blushes down at his feet. "I rehearsed that. Well, the first part, then the second part happened, and well, it went well enough. I wasn't expecting Ellie though."

I smile at him and nudge him with my shoulder. "Chin up. I would be absolutely delighted to attend dinner with you." Kasper chances a glance up with a smile and raises an eyebrow slightly.

"Well then, let us walk." Kasper and I fall into place side by side. "Are you coming from anywhere interesting?"

"I took Ellie to see my father, my mother was there." I wince at the weighted response to a question designed for small talk, and then take note of the apology on Kaspers lips. "No, really, it's fine. Well, it's not, but it's going to be fine, it's more fine every time I go there." Kasper raises an eyebrow in question but let's me continue. "Actually, I've been talking to my mother and my sister, about you. You talked to my sister about how best to propose. That is amazing. That would be endearing enough, but you also asked my mother for her blessing."

"It was the polite thing to do." Kasper mumbles.

"It was perfect and amazing."

"Thank you."

* * *

**Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Follow, Favorite, and Review, please. **

**Next chapter will be out on the 20th. I have nearly nothing planned this week. I can assure you with utmost certainty that it shall not be 14 minutes late like this one was. I will work tierlessly to stay on schedule this week and every week after. **

**-Whovian123 **


	93. Chapter 93

**Hello again beautiful readers. **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter, we might be seeing some Southern Isles royalty next chapter. **

**-Whovian123**

* * *

The world is blurry at the edges, my head throbs with each heartbeat and my vision wavers entirely for several seconds. I force my mind to sharpen, keep my eyes open and the world in focus. I am in my bedroom. The walls are higher and warped and wrong. It is right, all of it is as it should be, but it's also coated with a sense of foreboding wrong.

I stumble though the door and out into the halls. My head is assaulted again with pain and as my vision clears once more I see a figure approaching me. The figure is draped thickly with shadow and saunters forward with a step that brings with it a foul air.

The lights come to focus on the figure and I see clearly the lines of its face. I recognize them, of course I do. I will never not recognize them. They will come to me as a constant though out my life, striking during weak moments, lurking though scared ones.

It's Hans.

That is when I realize it is a dream. I have the sensibility to remember his death, to revel and fester in every small detail, for I know the man before me to be an illusion, but am reminded of his time in the castle and the violence that befell him at my hand.

He cocks his head and flashes a smile, his arrogance still much alive in my head, magnified even. He has become a caricature to me; warped beyond reason though my worrying and stewing. He raises an eyebrow questioningly, the persistent insight given to him by my dream accentuating the unpleasantness of the man. I breathe calmly and carefully, keeping grounded and avoiding his gaze.

"Elsa." His voice invades the static quiet, trudging though it as a bushman does the jungle, relentlessly and carelessly. "Have you been hiding from me? You never visit anymore?" He asks, his lips barely moving but his voice unreasonably loud.

I furrow my brow and clench my fists, my eyes trained on the intricate pattern of the carpet.

"Not in the mood for chatter? Well…" I nearly look up, I very nearly indulge this devilish dream version, this amalgamation of everything that has ever pestered me, ever worried me, ever broken me down and made be believed I was lesser, that I deserved less. "Do you need motivation?"

I keep silent, finding that the only power to be had on my side stems from my persistent silence.

"You think I'm a dream? That's what you think, isn't it. You fancy me dead, in a grave, only around to haunt though dreams. Well, my darling wife, let me assure you that I am alive and well, and very disappointed with the way you have been behaving these last few months." He sends glass though my veins, touches upon the innermost part of my fear as he ambles closer. I watch his shadow and his shoes.

"You had my baby." His hand reaches forward, long fingers come to rest at my stomach, pressing slightly, hot and putrid. "It was a girl. Tut tut tut, Elsa, my dear, what were you thinking? I can't have a princess shoulder my legacy. She will have to go, yes, she will. We will see to that, together, and then we can set about with a proper heir, the son worthy of my legacy."

I balk at that. My chest crashes and deflated and my mouth courses with bile, not at the prospect of a proper heir, I could take that, I could deal with it and close my mind to the reality of another invasion; I could deal with it if it meant Hans would leave Ellie be.

"And that name, really? Elsa, dear, what can you possibly hope for her to become with a name like that." Hans sighs. "Well, A respectable effort at a subpar trial run, but nothing worth continuing."

I feel a weight come to my chest, am made aware of it when it beings to struggle and scream. I blink once and Ellie comes into focus, wailing and withering at my breast. Hans chuckles. "I thought you would have worked harder to keep her away, to keep her somewhere _safe_." I watch as Hans takes her, my arms stiff and suck, not able to grasp her, to keep her from him. "She is certainly not safe here."

I try to say something, anything. I wrestle to scream and holler and demand that Hans leave her be, that he give her back to me and never touch her again. "Oh, Elsa, I nearly forgot to mention. Not only did you have my daughter, name her terribly, and rip me out of her life, you have the gall to let another man masquerade as her father?"

Kasper is at Hanses back now, bound and gagged alongside the rest of my family. "You thought you were going to have a life, a family? You thought you were going to have people that loved you. You were engaged. So soon after my untimely death you flaunt yourself about and seduce another man?"

I let my knees give out; throw myself across the floor, begging like a child or a criminal, desperate for my baby back.

Hans laughs. "You will never beat me. Your fiancé will die, your family will die, and before all of that, your daughter will die." He has a knife, when did he get a knife? I feel my stomach turn to fire and rage and despair. My voice tears from my chest and I scream my throat to tattered rag. I break through the forces that kept me in place, I launch myself from the ground to my feet, and then from my feet to Hans. The knife it glimmering, it is right above her, it's too near Ellie. I need to save Ellie.

The knife disappears within flesh and blood fills my senses, thick and warm, gushing and violent. I collapse on Hans and use all the power of anguish to tear him apart. He is too heavy, too warm.

Hands wrap around my wrists and my eyes snap open. He is on top of me; someone is on top of me. The hands are too strong, far stronger than me, but my panic and terror stricken vision of Ellie overpowers everything I have ever known and ice flares from my hands, throwing the heavy warm presence across the room.

I recognize where I am now, I know my room, walls normal and un-warped, and I know that I need to save Ellie. I roll of my bed and stumble violently through gasping breaths and tremors toward Ellie's crib. I moved her in, needed her closer to me while I slept. She did not last long it her carefully cultivated nursery. My heart stutters and screams in my chest.

The soft wood rails come to be under my hands. I force my eyes to focus, demand them to listen to me and see my daughter. She is there; she is there, lying on her soft mattress, under blankets and presently quiet and asleep. I reach in, needing to feel her and her breath, the rise and fall of her chest. I need to know with certainty beyond anything that she is alive and breathing and that she will never come to face with the violent terrible man my dreams refuse to let die.

She is soft and perfect under my fingers, I skim along her side and rest for a moment at her breast, relishing in the rise and fall of her chest and the fluttering beauty that is her heart beat. I feel a strained kept breath fall out of me, a wave of calm eases though me and my shoulders fall slack. Then I remember the warm heavy presence I sent flying, and how real is was.

My head it up like a shot, my hand still protectively on Ellie, shielding her from whoever might be lurking. I know with my rational waking mind that it cannot be Hans. I saw him die, saw is body encased in ice. He is dead and I know that, but I still worry.

The room is dark. It must be late. My bed is a scattered mess; covering and sheets twisted and thrown to and fro. Slumped over the edge of my bed is a curly head of dark brown hair. The owner of the hair is dazed and rubbing his abdomen. Kasper squeezes his eyes shut quickly and then looks up at me. He looks worried to a most extreme degree.

He clambers to his feet and I am unable to speak. His hand rubs gingerly at a silvery iced hand print, that I know to be mine, plastered across the fabric of his light sleeping shirt. "How are you- why are you here?" I stammer, trying to make sense of the tumbling feelings in my chest in the wake of my nightmare.

"Elsa, are you ok?" Kasper ignores my question, chooses instead to look at me like I am a violent and unpredictable wild animal. My hand preoccupies itself with Ellie's hair.

"Why are you here?" I balk at my voice, it scares me. I sound unlike myself in the extreme. My free hand clutches tighter at the rail of Ellie's crib, my hand wholly numb now. "Why are you here? Tell me. Tell me now, I need to know." Knowing why he is here will make it better, I will feel safer. It will be safer for Ellie and I. I blink and my mind replays Hans, I am thrown back to him and all he did to me.

Kaspers hands rise slowly. "I couldn't sleep. I had a nightmare, it kept me up. I saw… _bad_ things happen to you. I needed to take a walk, and I came here, just to make sure you were ok. I panicked when I heard you screaming. I couldn't listen to you scream like that, please, I couldn't. I'm sorry." The hand print on his abdomen holds my gaze. "Please." Kasper eases the word out like a prayer. "Are you ok?"

The idea of being ok has never felt quite so foreign to me. I clamp down on my lip and dig the fingernails into the crib rail, gouging thick half-moons and failing to hear the groan on the wood. I shake my head. Kaspers hands drift downward, centering at the handprint. He winces.

My eyes flick down to Ellie, my mind now letting me revel in her being alive. I cannot stop seeing her dead, cannot stop hearing Hans mock her, the man that should have been her father. I try to keep my mind in check, try to calm my chest. It is fruitless as my breath is coming faster and shorter. I blink furiously and refuse to open my mouth, keeping the vulnerable sob tucked away.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Kasper offers lamely, moving toward the crib with his hand still on the print.

I try to tell him no. I do not want to relive any moment of that, not ever again. I have been running from it for long enough now. I can run for longer yet. I open my mouth to tell him that I am fine, that I will be ok and that he should be more worried about whatever terror I have done to his abdomen. Instead I sob. I fall apart with the release of that sob, though I try to contain it with my hand quickly coming up to clutch at my mouth, and being to cry.

Kasper rushes to me, seemingly having forgotten about the hand print. He catches himself and stands dumbly, panic across his face as he struggles to decide if I am safe to touch. Without thinking, or giving myself a moment to regret my weakness, I collapse into him. My arms wrap right around him, gripping tight at his arms and shoulders. "He hurt her." I whisper against his, now tear stained, chest. "Han's killed Ellie." I shiver violently and Kasper holds me tighter, keeping me upright with his arms fast around me, encasing me.

"He's dead. Elsa, he is never going to come back. I promise that both of you are safe. As long as I am here I will always keep you safe."

"I saw her dead. I saw my daughter dead." I am being far too loud and far too shrill. "It doesn't matter that he is dead. I saw _her_ dead."

Kasper tucks my head under his chin, soothing his hand along my back. "You should go back to bed, you need your sleep."

"He was going to kill you." I tumble though flashes of my dream now. "He was going to kill everyone. He killed Ellie, he was going to kill you, he was going to kill everyone, and then when he was done I was going to have to be with him. He was going to hurt me again." My teeth grit and I hold my head stiff.

"He is not going to kill you, he will not kill Ellie. I will protect my family at any cost. You two are safe, I promise." Kasper bends slightly and at an odd angle. He swipes a hand under and up my knees, picking me up and turning me toward my bed. "Now back to bed with you." He presses his lips to my temple as I cling to his shirt.

I panic as my back touches the mattress. "Ellie, I need Ellie. My daughter, please, I need Ellie, now." I gasp and reach weakly toward her, exhausted now by the emotional wringer wrought by my nightmare and the man within it.

Kasper nods and says, of course, several times. He reaches down in Ellie's crib and tucks her into his arms, cooing and rocking all the while. He walks her over to me and I snatch her up in a second, savouring her weight and her breath.

I mean to thank Kasper, but catch him once more rubbing his abdomen and the silver ice print on his shirt. "How bad is it? How badly did I hurt you?"

"It is fine, I deserved it. I shouldn't have gotten on top of you, not when you were flailing and screaming so much. It's not as if I didn't know about the ice powers." He keeps his shirt tugged down, nervously.

"Pull up your shirt." I demand plainly.

"Elsa."

"Please, I need to know what you are hiding from me. I know I did something."

Kasper shuffles his feet and looks down, sensing the severity of my voice and being recently acquainted with the pain of crossing me. He tugs the side of his shirt up just far enough for me to see the thin silvery mark of ice across his skin.

"Kasper, Kasper, Kasper… no." My throat tightens as my sanity is stretched further and I find myself on the verge of crying once more. "Are you ok? Is it spreading? Oh my god, this happened to Anna, when we were young. Kasper, Kasper." I repeat his name as a chant, a hymn ensuring his safety and his life.

"It's fine, really, Elsa. It's nothing, It doesn't hurt." He winces over the lie. "It's shrinking, or well, thawing. I promise, it is fine.

"That's not fine. Kasper, that is not fine, that is not even close to fine." I panic. "I did that, to you, you're going to get hurt, I knew I was going to hurt you. I always hurt people, I hurt and I hurt and it feels like that's all I have in life sometimes." I hate myself for breaking down so spectacularly. I know rationally that the world will seem better in the morning; that I will have calmed down and will be able to think strait and sanely in the morning.

"Elsa." Kasper implores my name. "I don't lie; I have never once lied to you. I do not lie. I am not lying about this."

I reach out without thinking, needing to have felt it with my fingers and to know that it is simply ice on skin, nothing more sinister. It is thin and smooth against my hand. I can feel it melt against the warmth of Kaspers stomach. Several shuddering breaths reign in my worrying. "Ok, you will be ok. You will be ok."

"See." Kasper drops his shirt. "Now, please, Elsa, make sure you get some sleep." He runs his hand through my hair and kisses my forehead.

"I can't." I confess. "Sleeping after a nightmare, I can never sleep after a nightmare."

"I can't either." Kasper returns the confession.

He turns to leave, and I don't want him to.

The I embarrass myself.

"Please stay." I half hope he doesn't hear me. I feel foolish and weak for wanting him near me, for feeling to unsafe and horribly alone and unprepared. "I can't be alone, not right now. I don't feel safe alone."

Kasper turns back to me with a sad smile on his lips. "People would talk if they found me in your bed." He quips, a sort of secret happiness hidden in his features, perhaps just at the idea that I would trust him enough and feel safe enough to be near him while I slept.

"You act as if I have any modesty left to protect." I bite my lip to keep from crying again, focus on the stinging physical pain to keep the memories in their sheltered corner.

"I'm not- I would never… try anything. I mean, Ellie's here, and he, he _hurt_ you." Kasper's face drains and he settles into the familiar habit of tripping over words and convincing himself he has done wrong.

"Kasper, please, just stay, I just need you to be here. I want to feel safe, just for tonight I want to feel completely safe, and you make me feel safe." I feel my shoulders shaking, shivering under the worry and the fear and the too vivid memory of Hans.

He makes his way to the side of my bed. "Elsa, to make you feel safe, I would do anything."

I grasp his arm and he settles himself next to me. I turn into him and Ellie comes to rest between us, tucked in my arms and Kaspers warmth. Kasper's arm warps around my back and his thumb lazes slowly across the plains of my neck and along my hair line. I lose myself quickly and surprise myself with a deep sleep.

* * *

**I hope this was satisfactory. It was interesting to write as I've never had a dream quite like that. **

**Also, as of right now in my time zone, this chapter is not late! Wooo! ****Getting back in the good habits. **

**Next chapter will be up on the 25th. **

**-Whovian123**


	94. Chapter 94

**Hello. **

**Oh, what is this? Plot development? See, I told you it would happen eventually.**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

When I wake up it is to a most peculiar twisting about my finger, the light tug of smooth metal on skin. My shoulders shift and a yawn bubbles in the back of my throat, making itself known as my fingers twiddle in an effort to dispel the twisting.

I open my eyes to walls that are the right height and void of wrongness. Soft light is caught up in my curtains, casting a scattered glow across my floor. My side is warm with Kasper and my arms are heavy with Ellie. I remember my brief interlude from sleep during the night and the hysteria that fueled my actions.

"Do you suppose," I ask aloud, knowing that it was Kasper fiddling with my engagement ring and that therefore he must be awake, "that we could simply forget about everything I said last night?" I train my gaze on Kaspers hand resting over mine, and Ellie's face nestled, sleeping and beautiful, in my arms.

"Do you think we should?" Kasper prompts, knowing, obviously, that ignoring something is not the way to resolve it or reach a conclusion. I have the grace to be ashamed of myself and at that I cannot remain rational throughout what was clearly a dream, designed by myself, to play upon my weaknesses and worries. "Because if you can tell me, honestly, that that is what should happen, then of course I'll forget."

I set my jaw and concede. "I don't always react that way to dreams like that, and I also don't always have dreams like that." My arms tug Ellie closer to me as I recall the specifics of the dream and the way in which Ellie screamed and withered under Hanses gaze. "Ellie makes things different. Seeing her… _that _way, it was all I could see, all I could think about. I couldn't focus on anything else, everything else just felt like a threat, something against us."

Kasper takes a moment to think, and a while to breathe slowly and fully. I feel his chest expand and contract, steadily pushing and pulling at me. "I-I had a dream too, I was in your room because of it. I didn't mean to, I was walking because of the dream, and I told myself that if you were quiet in your room it would mean you were ok, but you were shouting. I ran in without thinking. Dreams can scare us in a special way that other things simply do not. Our minds conjure up these impossible things, things that can never be real, and they run amuck our heads."

"How is your stomach?" We carefully avoid truly addressing, directly, anything either of us says; that would make it a true conversation, we would be talking about what has happened, and I refuse to think so deeply about my dream and my actions as to talk about it. "Did the ice thaw?"

"Completely." Kasper nods, I feel it against the top of my head, and then moves his hand from mine to rub the spot, assuring himself that it is fine and likely remembering the ghost of stinging cold.

Ellie decides that this is what will wake her and wakes in a spectacular fashion that consists of immediate and constant screaming. I bite my lip and sit up, shrugging off the euphoria of sleep and stepping back into my role as a mother and queen. Ellie seems to have deemed today the day to be difficult, perhaps sensing the echoes of my dream and the, fainter still, ghost of her father.

"Don't worry about her." Kasper chimes in, sitting up beside me and reaching one hand for Ellie while rubbing the sleep off his face with the other. "I'll deal with her while you get dressed, then we can do breakfast."

I pass Ellie off with a quick kiss to her forehead and the same to Kaspers, and then patter across the room and close myself in my closet.

When I re-emerge it is to a beautifully quiet room and a softly muttering Kasper. He has Ellie at his chest and is rocking her softly, paying no mind to anything in the world around him. His shoulders, his eyes, his words, all his being in this moment is directed toward my daughter; our daughter.

I settle myself quietly against the wall; leaning back on it and enjoying the rather comfortable and domestic view my morning has gifted me. I remain for several minutes as a silent observer; then Kasper chances a quick stray glance up, perhaps curious as to why I have taken so long to properly clothe myself, and blushes as he notices me.

He pauses his quiet muttering to Ellie for a moment, but she is prompt in her insistence that the chorus be restarted. Being that he is smart, Kasper obliges. I allow myself a moment to smile and chuckle at how completely Ellie has wrapped Kasper and me around her fingers.

Making my way back to the bed with a definite spring in my step I notice that Kasper is not simply muttering, rather, he is displaying his excellent singing voice with a short lyrical fable I have never heard of before. This fuels and spurs my smile further as I crawl upon my bed and back to Kaspers side. He flicks his eyes upward periodically, tracking my progress, yet ever dutiful in his soft singing.

Taking advantage of a natural break in the song, a quick silent beat more normally used for a deep breath, I kiss Kasper. We break apart before Ellie realizes that the singing has stopped. He picks up where he left off with a broad and foolish smile in place. I grin back at him.

"Elsa you need to-." Anna blunders though my door; not bothering with the trivia that is knocking. "Oh." She stumbles to a pause when she sees Kasper. "OH, hi Kasper. I, er.. um, oh. Sorry. Sorry, Elsa, I should have knocked, but, um, well, this is really, really, important." Anna stumbles though words and apologizes.

"NO, no, don't worry about it." I tell Anna, jumping to my feet in an instant and making my way toward the foot of the bed, nervous about whatever Anna is trying to explain between bouts of stuttering and apologies. "Just.. tell me what happened."

"It's the armada." Anna deadpans. "It's been sighted off the coast."

I can practically see it shatter; feel as if I have kicked the glass myself with the illusion I allowed myself. My perfect morning that came in the wake of terrible dreams, it was a beautiful promise of mornings that I should have been having. I should have known, shouldn't have even let myself settle into the idea of comfortable lazy mornings with my family, the whole of it safe and happy.

I force myself to breathe; force myself to think as I remember that this is far more vast than the small world that is my bedroom. There is an army of men, my citizens, which will be readying itself for whatever horrors the day may bring.

"You're needed in the study," Anna breaks my heavy silence, "right now."

"Yes, of course." I turn back to Kasper, reaching for Ellie, a calming presence I am desperate to have back in my arms.

"Um, Elsa, it may not be ideal to have Ellie for this, rather a lot is going to be happening and we cannot deal with her crying." Anna is apologetic as she explains herself. I resent her for a flash of a second before I realize that she is right, a baby cannot sit in for meeting such as this. I cannot be anything but a calculating queen, sure of herself and regal in all ways, during times such as this.

"I'll take care of her." Kaspers assures me. "She'll be fine, I promise, I'll keep her as safe as safe can possibly be, I promise."

I make my way to Ellie quickly, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, smoothing back her hair, and whispering quietly to her that I am going to keep her safe, protect our kingdom, and never let anyone lay a finger on her. Then, taking a deep breath, I nod and bolt through the door alongside Anna.

We dash through the halls in silence for several moments before Anna orders her thoughts to the point of which she can manage a calculated question. "So, Kasper?" She broaches. "He was in your room… very early."

"I had a dream, one of the _bad _ones." I refuse to elaborate on the specifics of my dream. "He heard me making noise and woke me up. I was a little shaky and very tired and didn't want him to leave, so he stayed. That's all Anna." I do not have the time or the presence of mind to be embarrassed, I am rather altogether more panicked and more consumed by the delicate political situation coming to a head and the potential vulnerability of my daughter once the royals have made themselves known.

"I didn't mean- I know you never would, definitely not with Ellie there." Anna stumbles further into another apology, but I cut it off with a quick look and the assurance that I understand. "I just wanted to make sure everything was ok, that he hadn't tried anything." Anna finishes lamely.

"He didn't, he wouldn't." I assure, pushing all thoughts of Kasper like that from my mind, now is not the time to deal with the complications that will come with that.

Anna is silent after that, a testament to how intimidating the armada must be and how frightened she is. I chance a glance at her face and, seeing the steel set eyes and the turmoil concealed within, offer her my hand. She takes it and squeezes it tight. She is my sister; she should know that throughout all that may come she is among those I will surrender myself for.

We come to the study and waste no time idling outside the door. Inside waits my mother, too many guards for such a small room, and several men that have been managing the recently amassed and honed army.

"Where's Ellie?" Mother is at my side like a shot. "Is she ok? Have they taken her in the night, I worry now that they may have sent spies ahead to steal her away."

"She's fine." I assure, though my mind has now gone to the dark place of my dreams in which she is once more in peril. "She's with Kasper, she had a difficult morning and we didn't think a meeting like this was the best place for her." I panic and consider, briefly, running back through the halls to find her.

"Are there any guards about them? They need to be protected, just in case." Mother insists, motioning to several men behind her. "Where were they last? Where did you leave them?"

"My room. But they might have gone for breakfast in the dining hall."

"Your room, Elsa, this early. Kasper in your room this early."

"Yes." I address her then turn to the guards, ushering several out and asking that once they find the pair and make certain of their safety that they send the message back to me. Mother keeps her mouth shut firmly and turns her gaze back to the map of the fjords on the table and several sheets of figures and estimates, all about food and weaponry. I expect it details what the next several weeks could look like if things become sour.

"Anna's told you, I expect." Mother rubs at her half arm with the whole one and broaches the topic weighing heavy in my mind and the air. "About the armada. It's been spotted, they must have sailed all through the night, a sort of sneaking up close without us knowing... Well, we know now."

I nod along. "Have they made any sort of contact with us, sent a bird with a letter, or a man in a rowboat?" I ask, doubting the possibility.

"No." Mother's eyes are perched atop great dark circles. She did not sleep well; it seems to have been the night for it, perhaps something had been trying to make itself known in the deep night. "They haven't said a thing. We've started considering, that, perhaps a letter on our part, something telling them that they will simply not get what they want and that they will lose men if they advance further."

"We can't do that." Anna interjects. "If this comes to violence it cannot be our doing. To suggest violence is, for all intents and purposes, a declaration of war."

"Anna's right." I agree. "But we do have the right to our fjords, keep them sealed off, when they reach the opening they will meet a wall of boats and men, we either speak directly with the King and Queen, or refuse to address the armada's presence. What they do from there will be crucial, but will absolve us of blame."

"Your majesty," One of the generals makes himself known, "what of the men, shall they be prepped for battle?"

"Not just yet." I am reluctant to make a show of force with our tiny army. "Warn them of the situation, but tell them to keep as they were with only an ear out for calling up." The man departs on my dismissal and disappears into the many halls of the castle.

I pause for a beat and suck in a large and slowly drawn breath, and then I turn back to Anna and my mother, both of whom are now bent over the desk and whispering madly about food and supplies of all kind. "When are we going to run out?"

"Of?" They ask in unison.

"Anything."

Mother beats Anna to it. "We have food that could be properly rationed for a month and a half, not nearly enough if an actual proper war is to arise." The implications are painfully clear and the weight is becoming increasingly overwhelming.

"There really isn't anything to do but wait until they make some sort of contact, we are prepared as well as we can be, all things considered." Anna leaves the table and comes to be at my side. "Even if their intent is straight out war, there will be a meeting or council of sorts between us and them before that."

I nod. "That's all there is to it." I am met with several more nods from my mother, sister, and several silent and vigilant guards waiting patiently at the wall.

The world returns to what it often is, a game of waiting, wondering, and careful calculations. The three of us, flanked by guards, leave the room. If waiting is the only course of action it would be foolish not to take advantage of a chance at a meal, we need to be quick and strong should anything unexpected arise, and I have grown rather anxious with my being away from my daughter.

* * *

**So, let me know what you thought, please. **

**I'll have the next chapter up on the 29th. (Definitely for sure as I will not have internet past that date and refused to be five days late on an update again.) **

**-Whovian123**

**(Review replies will be up eventually, maybe tomorrow if I find the time. Sorry about that.) **


	95. Chapter 95

**Hello my lovelies, what a wonderful day it is. Look at me, updating on time and everything. Oh it is good to be back in the swing of things. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Frozen**

* * *

As we come to the door of the dining hall, Anna, my mother, and myself, we run into the guards I had sent forward previous to look for Ellie and Kasper; they assure me that all is well and I dismiss them to go about their business for the time being.

Once past the doors and within the sight of the perfectly safe and completely healthy Kasper and Ellie, I let out a small breath and feel my shoulders fall away from their bunched anxious state. I had been worried; of course I had been worried. A thousand men and woman could tell me that my family was safe, but I would never feel honestly secure in them until I was with them all, as I am now.

Anna spies Kristoff sitting next to them and rushes over to explain the circumstance and make sure that he is ok. I follow suit by making my way to Ellie and taking her once more into my arms. She looks up at my with her vivid green eyes and opens and closes her mouth several times, babbling senseless sounds and completely unaware that there is an army at sea waiting to do all they can to take her from me.

"Is everything ok?" Kasper asks. "With the armada… well, not ok, but, are things… going to be ok?" He shifts in his chair and stands up. "Do you need me to do anything? I can't do much, but if you need something." He runs his hands though his hair, mussing it up and trying to remain calm as he considers war, something he cannot be familiar with being from such a remote northern nation.

"Everything is fine right now." I assure him. "They haven't docked yet, and we won't let them. We're keeping them outside the fjords and agreeing only to meet with the King and Queen." I rock Ellie back and forth and occupy myself with her. Focusing on her directs my worrying into something remotely more manageable. It helps me feel like I can keep her safe.

Kasper nods and sits back down. I follow suit and focus on my breathing. Breathing is good, I count my breaths and track the time of several minutes with them.

"Elsa." Mother breaks my musing. "You need to eat something." She is trying not to sound worried, desperately trying to sound normal. I nod and concede, eating without thinking and rocking Ellie. Giving myself a moment to think about my morning I dissect my thoughts, the wake of my dream, and the announcement of the armada.

My mind rolls back to the absence of control in my life. I waited months for the armada, knowing this was coming and powerless to stop it. The most violent and traumatizing thing done by Hans and his family has been the constant waiting for something to happen, the worry that the bad thing will come, the ultimate bad thing. I am unable to focus on my day with the constant worrying. The idea of a world without worrying is foreign to me now.

Breakfast rolls past and several guards appear with messages of the armada and its progression. No contact has been made or attempted on either side. It comes as a mixed emotion each time I hear that there is no change, the tension mounts in my mind and my chest until I feel like screaming and begging with the Southern Isles royals to do something and make their intentions properly known, anything but the worrying.

As breakfast comes to a close and it becomes acceptable for me to leave I attempt to break free from the closely monitoring guards. Kasper jumps up to follow me, but I quietly tell him I need to be alone, I know that much. I need it to be Ellie and I and then I will be able to think. His presence is a confusing distraction right now. I will be able to calm myself down if I can be alone and outside.

The more sensible of the guards are quick to point out that me and my only heir left to our own devices outside in a time of great threat is a poor idea. I grit my teeth and smile pleasantly at them, knowing that they are doing their job and that they are right.

I slip from the dining hall, promising that I will not leave the walls of the castle, and, overwhelmed with the need for fresh air and ample view, decide to revisit the roof top vantage point that Anna showed me some time ago. Flitting though halls and past hundreds of doors, paintings, and tapestries, I uncover the route and find myself at the crude opening in minutes.

With careful progress and a protective hand wrapped around Ellie each step of the way, I manage my way outside. The air comes as a wave of relief, the sweet smell of the fjords carried on the wind and sunlight pooling in the breeze.

My mind halts its frantic and nonsensical brooding. The abstract worries and mounting fears stop assaulting me quite so viciously and I manage several slow breaths and a moment of clear thoughtless being.

Eventually Ellie babbles and I come back to myself, entertaining my daughter with an aimless show of ice and snow, something she mimics with bursts of simple snow structures born on instinct and amusement. "We could run away." I muse aloud, Ellie a board to bounce back all of my impulsive thoughts. "We could make it, I think we could. All we need is money and food, just enough to make a life somewhere. Or we could live in the mountains; the cold wouldn't matter, not for you, not for me."

Ellie grasps at dissipating snow and babbles once more.

"I know it didn't work out the first time I tried, but maybe it could work now. If I told everyone, or maybe not, they would say it was a bad idea, and then it wouldn't be proper running away… I could leave a letter telling them that I simply do not want the job of Queen anymore." I curl my knees to my chest and cradle Ellie closer to my chest. "Ok, we won't run away. It's not a good idea, not at all."

I hang my head in shame for having dared to consider abandoning my family an option. I have an obligation to the people of Arendelle and my family, an obligation that runs deep in my blood and will haunt me and influence me until I am down within the ground, buried and gone. Ellie would not be proud of me had she known what I was saying, and that is not something I will ever have. I am her mother and refuse to be a poor example of what I queen should be. I was raised with honor and respect for all.

"Elsa." Anna whispers my name from behind my shoulder. "I figured I would find you up here."

"Why?" Having not planned on being here myself I cannot conceive of Anna knowing me so impossibly well, even if we are family.

"Because this is where I go when I feel like you are feeling right now."

"I hope you're lying." I admit. "I hope you never feel like I feel. I don't want that for anyone, definitely not for you."

Anna shrugs and then asks. "Are you open to some company?"

I nod.

"Everyone's worried about you." Anna forgoes beating around the bush and delves into the core of the general commotion. "Kasper's beside himself, poor man wants to row up to the armada and shake some sense into them. Not his best idea, but he means well."

"I don't want to think about that right now." I mutter quietly, confused and ashamed of myself.

"Kasper or the armada?" Anna jokes lightly.

"Either." I confess. "Just, thinking about the armada is terrible for obvious reasons, and thinking about Kasper sends me into a panic, and I feel bad about that." I struggle to make sense of my sudden and embarrassing fear of Kasper, although fear feels a bizarre word to use.

Anna shimmies to my side and mirrors my tight knees. "Why do you panic, do you know? What are you panicking about?" She pries lightly, giving me a focus and a conduit to order my thoughts and separate one fear from another.

"You and mother, when you found out that Kasper had been in my room, you both thought the same thing at first, you both worried about that, and then I started thinking about that. It's not the time for it." I feel guilty for so suddenly being overcome with this other worry in a time of crisis. "The armada is here and my brain keeps going back to Kasper and telling me that I'm his fiancé and that I am going to have to do _that._" I shudder and close my eyes, shutting out the world once more to crawl within myself and observe my convoluted worries.

"Elsa," Anna begins, "First, don't feel bad for thinking about things other than the armada, you are allowed to think about whatever you please. You haven't done your people a disservice by thinking about your future with the man you love. And, second, you don't have to do anything you don't want to, you know that."

"But it's expected, and I panic when I think about it. I think of Hans and what he did, and I never want to be touched like that ever again, not by Kasper, never by anyone." I open my eyes and smooth Ellie's hair back and let out a quick burst of snow to keep her happy. "I love Ellie more than the air, the wind, and the mountains, but I regret Hans for having done that to me and I wish I could turn time backwards and stop it. And all the while I'm terrified of what's going to happen to Ellie when this armada docks, what if they have a plan, something I can't protect her from. What if I lose her, she's my everything, my life. I don't know what I'd be without her anymore. I wouldn't be anything, I would forever be hollow."

Anna's eyes are sad and my chest pulls tight at the look she gives me.

I try to stop but the words are tumbling out now, the floodgates of my mind have opened and every half thought fear is flowing freely now. "I just- what if Kasper expects it, what if he wants it now and he just, takes it. What if I send the wrong message? I smiled and slept at his side all last night, what if he thinks that means something more about what I am willing to do? I can't put Kasper and that hurt together in my mind, but still, what if he did. I never thought a man would do it before, but Hanses eyes, I can't forget them. I love Kasper so much, he makes me feel safe, but what if I ruined that by letting him sleep in my bed? What if I owe him something now?"

"Elsa," Anna implores, "Your body is your body, you can never owe it to anyone, not ever, not for any reason. Your husband is entitled to nothing, not ever." She sighs and her tone turns soft and nurturing. "You have had a terrible experience with intimacy; it's your only experience so you assume it is the only one possible. To be tasteful… when two people, people that love and respect all parts of each other, come together like that, it's perfect, and it's safe, and it's the most comforting thing. It should never be anything but an affirmation of love."

"I don't think I can ever see past what Hans did." I confess blindly, not knowing that had been a fear of mine until now. Now that it is considered and spoken aloud it is my most blinding and destructive fear. "How could it ever stop being him, how could I ever forget about that. I still have nightmares about that, I still remember it in flashes and get sent into a panic."

"You are far stronger than you realize." Anna remarks, her arm wrapping round my shoulders and pulling my close to her side in a hug. I close my eyes again and rest my head on her shoulder, letting my chest rise and fall with arrhythmic gasps of air, always just short of a sob. "And you are loved, you are loved well, trust me Elsa, we love you so much. Please, do not ever feel alone, you have so many people around you that love you." She is silent for a while longer before speaking once again. "Kasper will have to know." She adds as a quiet afterthought. "You will have to explain to him at some point your fears, and when you do he will understand; I am sure he will. He will do all he can to make you always feel safe and loved. He is good; he is so much better than Hans."

We spend far too much time perched on the edge of the roof, with Anna eventually taking Ellie from me as I curl up tighter still and lay for some time with my eyes closed and my breathing regular. It is as close to sleep as I dare get with several ships full of my enemy sailing nearby. I structure and order my thoughts, pushing the worries of Kasper aside once more and letting the armada remain as a priority, already I regret my minor breakdown.

As the sun peaks in the sky and begins its slow journey downwards we decide to rejoin the world.

I compose myself and become once more what I am supposed to be, a mother and a queen with the single minded focus of success. "Anna, please, don't mention that to anyone. I know you won't but I have to be sure. I'm not proud of it and I haven't even let myself properly think about it until now."

"I'd never." Anna insists, handing Ellie back to me. "But, again, I know I've told you this more times than I could ever count, do not let yourself suffer quietly. You can tell me anything, _anything_. Absolutely whenever."

I smile at my sister, once again baffled by the strength of her love and her persistence of spirit. "You are too good a sister to me. The same goes for you, we are so insistent that no one suffer alone, so often we overlook ourselves. Surely you have moments of doubt."

Anna very nearly chuckles; I can see it in her eyes and in the quick twitch in her cheek. "Of course I do, I doubt daily, Elsa, I am human. We all doubt and we all worry. That armada out there, it's built a pit in my stomach and is sitting there with an awful lot of weight. But I know it's going to be ok, because I have faith in me, and in you. I have faith in all of us here and I know we are going to see the other side of this, just like we have everything else."

"We are rather hard to kill, aren't we?" I smile at her, elated that she is so persistently optimistic.

The armada may be at our very door, but that changes nothing, not a soul on earth can take my baby from me or me from my family. Anna and I amble through the halls, back to the world and out of our little spot of timelessness.

We are greeted by the sight of many guards, Kasper, mother, Kristoff, and the general air of worry and anxiety. They have been looking for us, worried that something terrible had happened or that, unlikely as it may be, that we have been whisked off by spies.

"Has there been any news on the armada?" I ask, knowing that there must be, there would not be this many guards unless something, of any sort, had been said.

"There has been." Mother explains. "They met the blockage, at the entrance to the fjords. They questioned our men and demanded we let them pass. We said no. They demanded an audience with you, out there, we said no. They demanded one here… we said yes."

I process the news step by step, knowing first that there has been no declaration of war in my brief respite, and knowing second that there is soon to be a group of angry and disgruntled royals outside my castle gates. "Are they here now?" That is the most pressing matter at the moment, my terror in the face of Kasper and my future with him is driven back into the recesses of my mind, and the specifics of war become clouded and distorted. I have to keep them pleased; I must keep the Southern Isles royalty pleased and happy without letting them have any of the things they want, because they simply cannot have any of them.

"Not now, not yet. They are being brought in for a dinner, or a discussion, whatever can be managed. A rowboat is bringing them ashore as we speak." Mother explains.

I set my jaw and feel the power of winter snapping and rolling as an aggressive sea within me. A discussion or a dinner, I can do that, maybe they won't be able to, maybe they will storm out with threats and slander upon their lips, but I will survive and I will do it all while holding onto the things I love and keeping them safe.

* * *

**So...? I hope that Elsa worried about intimacy and Kasper thing didn't jump out of nowhere for anyone. I figured she'd been refusing to acknowledge any thoughts about that for some time and that her night would have triggered them to some extent. **

**I will not be able to get the next update to you quite so fast as this one (I know, right as I properly get back in the game I am pulled out) as I am away without any sort of technology for several days, so expect the next chapter on the 4th. **

**-Whovian123**


	96. Chapter 96

**Hello. Sorry, again, for my persistent and annoying lateness. I was at a camp taking care of people, and honestly, that was pretty much the best thing I have had the chance to do in ages, so focusing when I got back was quite hard. **

**At least there is lots of action waiting for you. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen.**

* * *

The long stretched dining table has acquired additional settings and chairs necessary for the approaching guests. I gnaw at my lip as I study the room and then make my way for the entrance hall, determined to keep my shoulders back, my head held high, and Ellie close to my chest for the time being. I struggled deciding whether or not she was safe with me, thought that perhaps it would be best so sequester her and my family in a room with armed guards whilst the intrusion of the Southern Isles was taking place, but decided against it.

I remind myself that of all the things and people in the castle, I am the most powerful. I have absolute power over the politics of my country and over the frightening force of winter. Ellie may seem safer out of sight, but I know that there is no safer place in all the world for her than my arms.

As an added, and wise, precaution, the great entrance hall has been lined quite completely with guards of all sorts, all of them labeled and set apart from whoever will walk through the door with Arendelles crest and colours. Every several minutes I am alerted of the progress my visitors have made. They have, by now, come ashore at the dock and are setting out towards the castle.

Anna is by my side, as is her custom now when she knows how deeply I am distressed, and my mother rests at my other shoulders, her jaw set tight and her eyes crisp as ice. Kristoff and Kasper flank the arrangement, both of them having found a regality about themselves that is not quite so typically present in the way they carry themselves. Ellie is terribly awake, something I wish she would not be for this particular part of her childhood. It is bad enough that my unfortunate guests will get to see her, but now she will have to see them as well.

A stone faced guard, cleverly masking fear and worry, steps forward to inform me that there has been no change in the position of the armada, that no show of violent force has been made, and that the royals are out of the town and minutes from our door. I thank the young man. He steps back into rank and I am struck with worry for him and his mother, whatever family he might have waiting and worrying at home. The poor boy cannot rightly be called a man yet. I do not want to have any part in violence and fighting that could take a boy from his mother.

As I worry and fret about a thousand things as the main doors are pushed open, and I am brought back to the world in time to see ranks of tall armored guards filling through my doors, all of them set apart by the bold colours of The Southern Isles and their crest. Once they have filed in, stretching out to match each and every one of my own guards, two people walk in. They are obviously the King and the Queen.

The King, King Frederick, has a stately moustache across his face and brown hair to match Hanses. The Queen, Queen Annette, stands taller than her husband, only slightly, with hair down to her waist and woven through with ribbons and jewels. She regards me with sharp eyes that make me feel small, send my arms tighter around Ellie, and tighten my heart into a frantic rhythm. They both have his eyes, why do they both have his venom green eyes. Do all people in The Southern Isles have the same eyes.

They appear to glide across the wooden floor, their shoes clattering on the ground and dominating all sound in the room. I keep my breathing steady and will the ice in my chest to calm down and recced. I do not want to cause a panic, and more than that I do not want Ellie seeing the swirling snow, getting excited, and then doing her best to imitate me. There are few that know about her powers and I am sure the King and Queen are not among those people.

"Evening." I astound myself by still being able to talk. "I've a dinner prepared, if you would care to take part." I ignore all mention of the armada and the threats and the implication of imminent war. "Or are you here for something else?" I challenge them; dare them to say it first.

Annette glances down at Ellie, and then looks to her husband. "Dinner sounds lovely, and if it's already being prepared, well, it would be rude not to." Her smile is like venom, matching her eyes. I return it the best I can, my face having gone numb, along with my hands, at the sensory overload and the frantic supressing of my violent wintery reaction.

I nod down the hall and they set out in front of me, seeming to know more about my castle than I do. I know this to be impossible, they have not ever been here before, they must be looking to guards for directions, but it is still unnerving none the less.

Anna's neck is held tight and mother has a protective hand laid across the small of my back, a reminded that I am not alone and will not be alone soon. Kristoff is close to Anna's side, ever protective and dedicated to his wife, and Kasper is studying Frederick and Annette intently from my mother's side.

Ellie babbles softly as she struggles to decide if she is going to nap or scream for all the word to here. I let out a silent sigh as she decides that she is in the mood for a nap. It tears at my heart that she is at the center of this. It pains me as is parallels my own childhood. Who she is, the fundamental parts of her that she does not yet understand and could in no way help, are going to cause her great stress, and will potentially cause her alienation as she grows up and comes to understand just what it means to have a biological father such as Hans.

We settle into the dining hall and I find myself studying the pair of royals. They are older than my mother, and older than my father would be, I expect it makes sense, Hans was the baby of his brothers, and he was as old as me. Frederick is nervous, much more so than his wife.

"I expect you will be letting our boats dock tonight." Annette looks up at me, returning my challenge. "There is much we need on them and many men who are quite done with beds that sway with the waves."

"Perhaps one more night for them." I quip, wishing dinner would make an appearance and that I had thought to develop some sort of strategy for removing these people from my land, if such a strategy for such a situation can be thought up.

The aura in the room is tense, understandably. Our guards line our respective sides of the room, and the serving staff looks as if they would all rather be thrown into the fjords with lead boots strapped on than remain observers to the subtle sparing. I share the sentiment.

"How many men would that be?" Anna asks with far too much edge in her voice. "An armies worth, perhaps?"

Tense is an understatement now. Anna is pushing them, fighting to have them say something that will incriminate them. "What do you consider an army?" Annette counters.

Anna recognizes that the best course of action is not to engage and to keep silent, a decision which I thank her for.

Annette does not recognize this.

"Well, your Majesty," my title feels false and mocking from her mouth, "are you going to introduce me to my grandchild?"

My eyes snap up from looking down at Ellie, making sure she was still asleep, and safe, and in my arms, to meet the green ones of Annette and Frederick. The latter seeming surprised and rather worried by his wife's request.

I dislike her addressing herself as my daughter's grandmother. My daughter has a grandmother, the best grandmother there will ever be; my mother. This new woman, inserting herself into our lives and threatening our country, she does not belong and she does not get to call herself such things as if we were a family. I have all the family need and am quite satisfied with them.

"She's Ellie, Eleanor, actually. But she's Ellie to me." I am careful to omit all other information. She gets her name. Annette can have only what the rest of the world knows; nothing about powers, nothing about preferences, or their shared eye colour. She will not be told about the way Ellie grasps for things and yearns to learn, or of the way that she hates the dark but loves the stars and needs the window open to properly get to sleep at night. Those things are mine to know. I am her mother and I will be the one that knows she loves her strange blue sweater knitted by Olaf more than any of the fancy things I bought for her. I worked to know these things; I carried her nine months to know these things. I suffered at the careless and cruel hands of Annette's son to know these things. She has done nothing and offers nothing.

"Lovely name."

I regret her having said that, her approval of anything, even if nothing more than sadistic mocking, taints it. "Thank you." I force the words out and ask Kia how long dinner is likely to be. He blunders into the kitchens, clearly eager to get away from the, now, silent and volatile room.

The royal couple exchange several glances during the short time in which Kia is gone, and when he rushes back into the room, servers with trays laden high with food at his heels, they being to eat silently. The rest of us follow suit, not daring a pleasantry of any sort directed at anyone.

I've yet to discern whether the engagement ring on my left hand has been noticed yet, and if once it is noticed there will be scathing remarks calling me names I do not want to think of and accusing me of terrible things. Ellie and I may be rather large targets as of now, but the rest of my family is nothing more than a minor inconvenience. I do not want Kasper being noticed.

"The weather about here seems strange, are your springs always as cold as this, it is nearly summer." Frederick attempts casual small talk, perhaps unaccustomed to our generally cool northern weather, or to my inclination to cause winter catastrophes. I applaud him silently, for as I am sure he is here for foul things at least he has the decency to pretend otherwise.

I do not have the chance to ask him much about weather as his wife is quick to snap under the strain of formality. "Enough with pleasantries!" She throws her fork onto her plate and stares me down. "Yes, it's cold, you have bizarre cold summers. That is all well and fine. Now, I want the child and will not leave without her."

My hand clenches against Ellie's back. No. No, no, no. It is worse than I could have ever imagined to hear it spoken aloud by someone who means it, someone who, if given the chance, would surely end my life to abduct my daughter. I shake my head, trying to say it, trying to explain that, no, not ever. She is mine, not Hanses, not hers. She is mine before all others. "You can't." I manage as the tense aura tightens to an explosive head. "No. It is as plain and simple as that; no."

"It is not as plain and simple as a no, and you know that." Annette insists, referencing the men sleeping on the swaying boats aboard her armada.

"Details are unimportant." Mother chimes in. "The child is to stay here and we will do what needs to be done to keep her here."

"You should not say things like that. You have no idea what you would have to do to keep her here. As a nation you are small, you are removed from the world, you laid dormant for three years, existing on the outskirts of the political world. There are things to do not understand and alliances we have you will never come close to. We are an ancient nation and you cannot hope to compete with the power we could amass if need be." Annette looks darkly to my mother. "You could not fend me off with two hands, do not tempt me when you have only one."

"I survived your son for nearly four years, _you _should not test _me._" Mother seethes. I am reminded of the shouting and throwing match that led to Viktor being removed from my country and sent home to his own. Praying she does not remember just how wonderful it feels to smash plates on the wall opposite you I cut in abruptly.

"No one should do any testing or tempting, not of any sort. I want what is best for you and what is best for Ellie. I believe it is best for her to be here. I am her mother. I want her to be here with me. I cannot, in good faith, surrender her to the parents that brought about the man that forced me into marriage and motherhood." I refuse to let the one good thing to have come out of my time with Hans be returned to his family and raised as a weapon.

"Tell me, Your Majesty, does the child possess your powers?" Annette forgoes tact and strikes the question of the hour.

"Y-yes. Yes, she does, and she won't know how to control it, not yet. She needs me if she is to have a normal life, a life that feels like a life and is lived without constant fear and worry." I insist, a persistent rising panic about me now. They won't listen. They are ignoring what I tell them. They are like him, they are going to take the things that matter to me and leave me a devastated mess with a country in ruin.

"She doesn't need you." Annette counters. "You killed our son in a fit of rage. How can we expect you to manage a child with your inclination for disasters? Do not think we forget the terrible winter that you laid upon your country after your coronation?"

Fredrick refuses to meet my gaze, refuses to acknowledge that anyone has been talking really. He keeps his head bowed down and twirls his fork in his slim fingers. Anna is bristling and Kristoff has a tight hand over hers, a reminder that we are hosts, that we need to be civil, and that it is important to eat and play nice for the rest of the evening. We can take it hour by hour and manage with what may come.

My mother has dropped the pretense of eating and is instead sitting pointedly and glaring a most malicious glare at the royal couple sitting opposite her.

Kasper looks massively overwhelmed. I expect he is simply wishing to make it through the next little while without anyone questioning his presence, or how he fits into the array of people at the table.

"That's quite unfair." He ventures, shattering my assumption. "From what I've seen of your family you resort to violence and intimidation for all things, Elsa's not a violent person. I've never once seen her wish ill on a soul."

Annette turns wearily to Kasper. "Who are you?"

Kasper stutters. "No one, just… me. I'm just here."

"You have no business here." The Southern Isles Queen nearly shouts, seeming quite annoyed. "Why are you here? Are you even a prince? Do you have anything to your name?"

"Well, yes, I am a prince. And I'm here… because." He looks to me, unsure of what to say and whether the truth is advisable in the circumstance. I nod before I can overthink it, or regret it. "I'm actually waiting on a wedding, and I suppose I'll stay here a while after that, quite a while."

"A wedding." Fredrick is startled out of his quietness, his moustache bouncing in surprise. "Who's? I was under the impression that Princess Anna had already been married to that young ice harvester." He motions towards Kristoff.

"It's mine." I decide that I ought to offer Kasper some support. I have learned that reactions can be violent, but seem less so when braved in pairs. "And his."

"Can't be." Annette declares. "You can't do that. You cannot disgrace my sons name by marrying another, certainly not mere months after his murder, most defiantly not this stuttering bumbling shadow of a man." My engagement seems to have struck a cord with the woman as she is now quite out of her chair and poised over the table, ready to lunge. "My granddaughter will call no other man _father_, she will not be raised under this roof and I will not let my sons legacy be torn asunder because you do not understand proper values."

"I'm sorry." Kasper mirrors Annette and stands. "_Proper values? _I've seen what your _proper values _wrought. I saw what he did to her. I watched it all. I've been there though all of it. I've found her with burns, cuts, and bruises. And I had to pretend not to notice. I had to sit next to her at breakfast, knowing that he had done to her, seeing the way she flinched away from him every time he so much a flexed a finger. I've held her while she cried, seen her wake up screaming, all because he's forced himself so deeply in her mind that she might never truly be rid of him." Kasper is plainly angry now with is voice mounting. "I do not know what you intend to do with _my_ daughter, but if you and your values are involved I can assure you that she will have no part in it."

I take a moment to be surprised by Kasper and his outburst, and then massively proud. I allow myself a quiet smile.

Annette has the audacity to look indignant and then to turns to Fredrick, seeking so sort of validation from her husband. He gives a quick startled look, notes her raised and braced position, and then copies her.

In quick succession the rest of my family as on their feet as well, with me scrapping my chair about and balancing Ellie. I will not have people looming over me as I sit and am made to feel small in my home. "I do not want to fight you. I do not want this to come to something violent." I implore. "But I am not so desperate for peace that I will let you take my baby from me."

Annette glowers. "Then we will return to our ships, for there is little left to discus with you and much to be discussed with our generals."

* * *

**So? Did it make up for being three days late? Probably not... Sorry. **

**Oh well, moving on. Next chapter is going to be up on the 12th. I am already well into it and see no way in which I can fall behind again. **

**Also, I did and thing and made a tumblr. I sorta jumped on the bandwagon a little late, but if you feel like checking it out its **_**vaguelyoptimisticdreamer. **_**Just, if you're curious about me and want an easy way to check if I am alive if any additional long absences happen. Let me know if I am doing it wrong... Don't worry, I wont plug it in any chapters after this. **

**-Whovian123**

_**Edit: **_

**NicPie: Thank you. I have a weak spot for mothers being mothered.**

**Aeluna: Thank you. It was a little slow, it felt better to keep it slower and subdued and then go into a more raw heart to heart. I hope you enjoy the action that is to come. **

**HermioneDianaRaven: Thank you so much. I hope you continue to enjoy. **

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. Yes, I expect she is scared rather shitless. **

**chinaluv: Thank you. **

**Winter-Rose-of-Arendelle: Thank you so much. I do my best and research constantly. A pet peeve of mine is overlooking emotional trauma and emotional trauma that feels like it was ripped out of a book and not tailored to the character. **


	97. Chapter 97

***Looks at calendar* **

***Looks at reader* **

***Looks at calendar* **

***Looks at reader* **

**What? **

**Oh my gosh.**

** I did it. **

**It's the right day. **

**Awesome. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen.**

* * *

I expected to regret it once they left, to wish everything could be unwound and sewed together differently. Instead I do not waste my time feeling guilty over my resolve not to bend. It is my daughter and her future that I will be fighting for. I cannot make myself even the slightest bit ashamed that I refused to surrender her and leave her at the mercy of people that want a weapon.

It is a cool calm feeling that I enjoy. In these moments of quick snappy conferences with generals and commanders I feel most like a queen; like I am someone properly in control of something for once.

I had arrange an escort back to the docks for the King and Queen. They comply and leave without much fuss and for that I owe then the slightest bit of thanks, as my country and the people within it have begun turning in for the night and would not do well with war time panic right now. Although it is something I expect will arise the moment people begin to wake up.

By clinging to the calm and the sensibility I manage to sort out the guards, assign them all rooms, and doors to watch, and people that must be kept alive and here. Each bedroom is to have a rotating guard of the most reliable and trusted men. Everyone that is not quietly sequestered away for the night will be escorted everywhere, no one is exempt.

The morning has played out time and time again in my head. I know what I will do in every eventuality. I know that Ellie will be safe. I know that my mother will be safe. I know that Anna and Kristoff will be safe. I know that Kasper will be safe. Everyone has to be safe, I have to keep everyone safe.

I know this because I will not hesitate to unleash a storm unlike anything The Southern Isles has ever known. If I wake up to them at my door, legions of men primed with swords and bows, not having had the courage or the decency to properly declare any sort of war, I would wipe them out. If they dared stoop so low as to sneak up to my door, intending to kill me and take my daughter, for they would have to kill me to get at Ellie, I would not hold back.

I have held back my entire life. I have kept all I could do sequestered deep in the back of my mind, in the bottom of my heart. The only time I have ever come close to knowing what I was properly capable of was when I built my ice castle, and I was not angry them. I did not need to protect anything then. The castle was a burst of joy, and pleasure, and freedom. I do not know what sort of angry violent terror The Southern Isles could cause me to unleash.

"Anna?" I break myself from my ever more violent musing and turn to my sister. "Are there any men out on the mountain, any ice harvesters?" I feel the beginnings of a terrible idea forming; the type of idea that would leave the trouble caused by The Southern Isles a distant memory.

"I don't know." Anna says. "I could ask Kristoff, he would know, do you need something from the mountain? You better be quick about it, they will all be coming back in the instant Kristoff can get word to them. We don't want them getting caught out in a war…"

"Yes, actually, if he could manage it I do need something. Could he tell the harvesters to go the the ravine, the one by my ice castle, and make a bit of noise?" I ask, hoping he is still up there. I haven't seen him the times I was up there, but I doubt he wanted to be seen.

"Why…?" Anna looks quite suspicious. "What are you planning?"

"I have a hunch and a hope. Nothing more, just make sure Kristoff tells them to not be afraid of whatever they find. As long as they don't do him any harm they will be fine. He really isn't all that bad. He just wants to protect me."

"Really? Elsa, Marshmallow?" It clicks for Anna. "Is that wise?"

"What do you suggest? You know they have a bigger army than us. We have practically nothing." I explain, looking down at my daughter, her small face mashed against her fist as she sighs in her sleep. "He protects me, and he will protect her. He will protect all of us. I need him here and if they don't look for him, I will."

Anna is quiet for a moment. "Ok, as long as you promise me you can control him. Not much about you scares me, but Marshmallow and me did not part on good terms."

I feel bad for a moment, regret that I was quite so quick to dismiss and hurt Anna on top of that mountain in that castle. "He'll protect you, I promise." Olaf was born out of joy and the lightness of freedom, and that is echoed in all his actions, Marshmallow came into the world because I needed to be protected, and sheltered, he will only have quarrel with those I do not feel safe around. "He is our best option right now. And you _will _be safe. He can keep us all safe."

Anna nods and scurries off to find her husband with several guards chasing behind her, remembering my orders and that they are likely to find themselves on the wrong side of Marshmallow if they let my sister, the Princess of Arendelle, roam freely about the castle at a time like this.

I trust that Anna and Kristoff will work out sending word to the harvesters and instead decide that I am going to sleep, or attempt sleep. My nightmare took out quite a large chunk of my night, setting me on edge and causing quite a bit of mental uproar.

Once in my room, away from the guards and the feeling of being watched, I allow myself a moment's breath and a second away from the world with my eyes closed. Then I set Ellie down on my bed and shed my tight, straight-backed dress and replace it with a light sleeping gown. It feels good to dress down and to know that today is behind me now.

I sit down on the side of my bed and take Ellie back in my arms. She lazes her eyes open to look at me and sends me a scathing glare at all the jostling about. I ignore it and hold her tightly. "Do you have any idea what a stir you have caused?" I tease lightly. "Everybody wants you, but, I won't let them get you, promise. Ok? You're safe here; you are always going to be safe here. And maybe I'm telling you this for my benefit, but that doesn't change anything. It's all true, it will always be true."

With several minutes of pointless pacing and far too much listless staring out of my window I realize that I best concede and go to bed, keeping sure that the drapes about my window are pulled back for Ellie.

I succeed for a while. I manage, judging by the light of the moon, two or three hours of sleep before there is a noise. Once there is a noise I know I will be getting no more sleep.

I panic quietly, for Ellie as she is still asleep and I do not want to have her awake and as a wild card should a crisis of sorts be unfolding outside of my room. I take heart in the fact that there is no sound of metal; no weaponry of any sort has been hinted at by the sound. It is just a rather forceful whisper, angry and dominated by the men stationed outside my door.

Really, I should let it be. It could be anything, and is most likely not a threat to my, or Ellie's, life. I still worry though, what would I be without that small persistent worry in the back of my mind. It is due to the worrying that I must investigate, even if it turns out to be no more than two guards at odds over a simple thing, such as apples over pears; I must investigate.

I make sure Ellie is still asleep and secured in my arms; I couldn't quite bring myself to trust her to her crib after a day of being told she is going to be taken from me, and pad along my room to the door. With a curios ear to the door I realize that I recognize one of the voices rather well, then I wonder what Kasper is doing outside my door in the middle of the night.

Careful to shield Ellie from the light about the guards I ease open the door and set about sorting out whatever situation has arisen.

"What are you doing, it's the middle of the night?" I ask the grouping. Kasper and the collective of guards jump as they notice me and scramble to explain themselves.

"Your majesty, Prince Kasper here was trying to enter your chambers."

"I was not." Kasper splutters. "Elsa, I really wasn't I just, well, I couldn't sleep, and kept worrying about you, and I know that your guards are by no mean lax or unfit for their task, but I wanted to make sure you were safe all night. I was just trying to wait out here with them, that's all, really. I wasn't going to be able to sleep so I figured I could wait out the night here, that's all it was."

I rub at the sleep in my eyes, a voice in the back of my mind reminding me that it is exceptionally late and that I am exceptionally tired. Ellie has not slept so soundly in sometime, save last night, when it was I who found themselves restless. "Why is this a problem?" I direct my gaze to the guards.

"You were quite clear on not letting anyone near you, anyone at all, and if seemed like a strange behaviour coming from a strange man." One of the guards offers.

"I'm engaged to the strange man, this isn't a problem."

"All due respect your majesty, but the last engaged prince to walk these halls did not have the best intentions for yourself and your sister." Another guard chimes in with a comment that I will accredit to the late hour and high stress.

"Just, let him…" I consider, for a moment, Kasper curled up against my door, waiting out the night and making sure no one dares set foot near my room. I fancy him and man more than a dog and decide that his plans simply will not do. Also, I cannot imagine the guards would delight in having him so curled by the door while they keep an eye out for threats. "Let him come in, it doesn't matter."

The guards grumble as they let him pass and shut us away from the world, falling back into ranks in front of the door. "You didn't have to do that." Kasper insists. "You could have left me out there. I would have been fine staying outside; I can't imagine I'll be able to sleep anyway. I've never been in a political situation like this before, or really, any political situation."

"No. I couldn't have." I snap. "I can't have you sitting outside of my door all night. Not when you're going to be my husband, not when you're going to be royalty here. People are going to assume things about you and about me, a Queen engaged to a foreign prince months after she killed her first husband, we do not paint a pretty picture, and you spending the night in a hallway would not improve anyone's opinion of us." I put off walking back to my bed, not quite equipped to lie so close to someone after the type of day I have had and the revelations I made with Anna.

Kasper seems taken aback for a moment. "Um, right, sorry... I forget that sometimes. You're a queen, I'm a prince. Things need to be a certain way." He shuffles about on his heels for a moment, awkward now, having been reminded of formalities, duties, public profiles, and expectations.

Uncomfortable with the forcefulness of my words and Kaspers clear dejection, yet comfortable with the rift I have wrought and the lonely safe space it gives me, I pad back to bed. Gnawing on my cheek I sit on the quilt and feel quite terrible looking back at him.

"I can go back to my room." Kasper offers. "If you want. It isn't the best image to send, your fiancé spending the night before you marry him. It's only been several minutes, no one would assume anything more than a quick chat."

"And make you deal with the mess of guards out there." I shake my head. "No." I realize that while I am petrified of Kasper, I am, at the same time, desperate to be near him.

"What then?" Kasper asks. "Is it to be the floor in here, where no one can see? You're obviously desperate to get away from me." He waves a hand in my direction, referencing my defensively angled body. Something I had not realized I was doing.

I squeeze my eyes shut and bring a free hand to my temple, trying to clear my mind and think though the fog of tiredness and stress. I should not have handled it like this. Kasper was just trying to be nice and lighthearted, anything but more stress on top of a stressful day. I should have found a better way of keeping myself safe, some way that didn't hurt Kasper. "Not the floor." I mumble into the side of my wrist. "I wouldn't let you sleep on the floor unless it was the only option and I was there too…" I pause and drag my hand across my face. "I'm just really very muddled right now. I can't think about anything, and… what I can think about is Hans, his family, and... all that's happened. I just, you sleeping here... I forget that you aren't him."

Kasper jumps in before my mind can firmly insert itself into that particular thought. "NO, don't say it. Please don't say it. I understand. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't think about that. I should have thought about that. I never want to cause you any sort of discomfort." His eyes turn soft as it comes together and connects in his mind. "I'll leave; I won't say a word about it tomorrow. I promise, not a word to anyone."

"Please don't do that." I ask before he can lay a hand on the door. "I don't want this to drive you away. I don't want this to be a problem that I have." I confess, regretting the fuss I have kicked up and wish instead that I had simply sat though the closeness and dealt with it quietly.

Kasper forgets the door and looks back at me. With several calculated steps, all though which he keeps careful watch of my face, looking for signs of discomfort, he comes to his knees before me. "Drive me away?" He speaks tenderly. "Elsa, I love you."

I set my jaw and try to keep myself composed. "Love isn't always enough to keep people together." I release my fears. "Kasper, if I can't even properly manage sleeping next to you some days, how could I ever manage anything else? I can't be a proper wife. I can't do _that_." Ellie starts to murmur and stir in my arms. I flash with guilt, having quite forgotten about needing to be quiet for her.

I avoid Kaspers face, refuse resolutely to look at it and busy myself fussing with Ellie, trying to keep at least one of us happy. At least one of us has to be happy. She pays no heed to my frantic soothing and bouncing, instead deciding to draw in a deep breath in preparation for a scream.

Before she gets the chance she is lifted out of my hands by Kasper and hoisted though the air as he stands up. He starts up another quiet soothing song that I have never hear before and, through what I am sure is magic, keeps Ellie quiet.

My head falls into my empty hands. "I can't be a proper wife; I can't be a proper mother." I bite hard at my cheek to keep from crying. "Sometimes I feel like my entire life is nothing but a great cascade of failures."

Kasper's mouth is occupied with the lullaby, but he manages a free hand and holds it out as an invitation to stand with him. I take it. He pulls me to my feet and settles the three of us in a line, Ellie in the space between us, still balanced on Kaspers arm and fighting a losing battle against the soft song.

I relax into the space. Kasper keeps one hand wrapped tight with mine and keeps Ellie secured tight to his chest with the other. I smile down at our daughter and appreciate her, she is not a failure. If nothing else I will always have her, and she will always be perfect. I smooth her hair away from her face as she blinks lazily at the ceiling.

Kasper keeps singing at little more than a whisper as he feeds his fingers though mine and draws me closer to him, only with the lightest of pressure. I let him lean down toward my ear and whisper the song softly to me before placing the softest of kisses on my temple and pulling away to give me space. I stay pressed close to his chest, very nearly wrapped in his arm.

Before the song is over Ellie is asleep, but out of respect for his marvellous voice and the intricate poetry I encourage Kasper to finish the song.

"Why are you so well versed in lullabies?" I ask, the side of my head tucked against Kaspers chest, his heartbeat steady in my ear.

"My mother, I remember her singing them to me, and, eventually, I started singing back." Kasper explains away his singing and his lullaby repertoire before returning to our previous conversation. "You are not a failure. Elsa, nothing about you is anything close to failure. You have endured and beaten things that would have destroyed any other person. And nothing, _not a thing_, is ever going to drive me away from you, not unless you tell me you don't love me and that you want me to leave. Nothing short of the words from your mouth could ever make me leave you behind."

"Promise?" I mutter.

"Promise." Kasper assures me, placing a quick kiss to the top of my head. "So, if you want me to stay, I'll stay, if you want me to leave, I'll leave. If you want me to curl up in a chair, I'll curl up in a chair."

"The bed is a big bed, and that lullaby of yours calmed me down too."

"I may not have a way with words, but I can manage a bit of magic with the right song." Kasper quips.

I smile at him and he passes Ellie back to me. I welcome the weight back and, as she settles against my breast, the haze of tiredness and sleep settles into my mind. Stifling a yawn I pad back to my bed, eager to sleep but not eager for tomorrow.

Kasper follows me, approaching the bed from the opposite side, surveying me; looking for some violent reaction I am sure. I keep collected and we settle in together, the domestic feeling from the morning creeps back into the air as I blink though a yawn. I fancy for a moment that the day has not happened, that Kasper, Ellie, and I, spent the day doing nothing of consequence. I imagine that we took a stroll and laughed quite a bit.

While I imagine I somehow end up sleeping.

* * *

**Was it ok? I hope so. **

**More Southern Isles in the next chapter, which will be up on the 17th. **

**-Whovian123**

**(Review replies will be started the instant this goes up)**


	98. Chapter 98

***Looks at calendar***

***Looks at reader***

***Looks at calendar***

***Looks at reader***

**Shit.**

**Maybe next time.**

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Frozen.**

* * *

It is a heavy fist on my door that wakes me, that and the strong shouting of a guard. I grasp first at Ellie, and secondly at Kasper. My hand flies out and comes to rest on his chest, above his heart. I feel it beating rather fast and enjoy him being alive, then stumble toward the door, Ellie still at hand, to uncover the reason for such knocking and shouting.

"What?" I snap at the bespectacled and freckled guard outside my door.

"Your majesty," the man fiddles with the hilt of his sword. "The King and Queen of The Southern Isles have requested a formal meeting with you at a less... _secure_ location. They wish to meet with you outside the strict confines of the castle or the city. They have proposed that you meet them quarter past noon quite east of the castle, out by the fjords on a field."

"That seems reasonable. Accept, please." I agree without thinking or considering it too much. Marshmallow will be here shortly, I have a feeling in the back of my mind that keeps me sure he is on his way, and I have lost all reservations about unleashing the full power of winter upon my questionable guests.

The guard rushes off and I try to make a mental note to advise that I not be awoken in such a manner unless it is an emergency of the most extreme variety. Note being made I turn back to my room and to Kasper.

"Anything tragic?" He asks, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Just an over-eager guard. Nothing to fuss about." I lean back against the door and fight a yawn. "I've got a date with The Southern Isles just past noon."

"How exciting. What to do until then?" Kasper jokes.

I shrug.

He swings his feet to the floor and rests there a while. Then, with little warning, he smiles a broad satisfied smile. "You made it through the night." He observes, coming out from the daze of sleep. "That's amazing, Elsa. I'm proud of you."

I falter for a moment. I do not want praise for something that should not be a problem. My mind seizes and panics that Kasper should treat a night next to him without screaming and crying as a triumph. "That's nothing. I slept, it's no great feat." I insist.

"It's something."

I chuckle darkly. "Something. I shouldn't be where I can barely manage a night with you. I shouldn't be like this."

"Hey," Kasper asserts. "Something is better than nothing." He pauses for a moment, sensing the disagreement that will not be settled now, and does not need to be settled now. "Now, about the Southern Isles, this date you have. Do you have a plan?"

I thank him silently for not pressing. I could not do with pressing or insisting right now. "Better. A snowman."

Kasper pauses. "Elsa," he ventures, "I love Olaf, he is wonderful, but he cannot fight a war."

"No." I amend quickly; almost embarrassed at having never told Kaspers of what is most undoubtedly my most intimidating creation. "There was another snowman."

"Another snowman?" Kasper echoes.

"Yes, another one. I made him when Anna was trying to talk me out of my ice castle and back home. I started panicking, she was telling me about the winter, I hadn't realized _everything_ was covered in ice, I thought it was just near me on the mountain." I explain, recalling the moment when I realized that my pattern of destruction could not be contained to just myself and that I had put the lives of all my people in peril. "After I realized that, I sort of… stopped thinking clearly. I summoned a snowman, much bigger and angrier than Olaf, and he chased off everyone that tried to save me."

Kasper offers me a sad smile. "You made him to protect you?"

"Yes, although, I didn't quite understand what I needed protecting from." I duck my head and watch Ellie in my arms. She's still asleep and I attribute that entirely to Kaspers perfect lullaby skills. "But, he can help now. I know what I need to protect now." My arms pull tighter at my daughter and my voice wavers for a moment. "I understand that there are things worth more than peace of mind. I would rather stew and worry for Ellie every day for the rest of my life, and I think I will, than return to a time without her."

"You worry so much; that I worry about your worrying." Kasper quips, standing up and making his way toward me. "Would you do me the favour of taking some time after breakfast, before your date with that strange King and Queen, to set aside your worrying and enjoy some time being not worried."

"That would depend," I push off the door and lean toward my fiancé, "are you going to be there, to take my mind off things?"

"Always." Kasper vows with a flash of frightening intensity. "I will always be there." He leans past me, his face coming to rest a hair's breadth before mine. His hand has disappeared behind my back and with a quick flick of his wrist I hear the door swing open as the stony air of the halls floods the warm room.

"Good." I find that I mean it. I realize, with the weight that came when I realized my entire country was slick with ice; that I am pleased with the idea of Kasper always being there for me. He puts me at ease when I am stressed. "Thank you."

Habits catch up with me as I duck out of the room; proper once more in the hallways, straight backed and severe as the assembled guards surround us and escort us to the dining hall, pretending not to question or judge Kaspers presence.

The young prince flashes another smile, this one significantly less sad. "I am afraid I must take a short leave of your presence, your majesty." I suspect he is now mocking my greatly altered demeanour. "But I would hate to attend breakfast by your side with my hair a mess and my clothes rumpled and suited only for bed."

"Oh leave if you must then, but I am not going to touch a thing on my plate until you are back and I know you are safe." It dawns on me that tonight will likely be far less light and safe. Tonight we may be in the midst of war. Men could be out at battle, ships lining the fjords, fending off who they can but eventually being overrun. I snap out of it. No. Not a soul has to die. I can stop them. Marshmallow and I are strong enough to keep the country safe, all of it. We have to be.

Kasper dashes off; having taken my statement as a challenge. I smile to myself as several guards, knowing they will be in direct violation of my orders if anyone is left to roam the castle alone, chase after him.

I arrive at the dining hall, collect a plate full of food, and wait quietly in front of it while Anna fawns over Ellie and chatters about what the Southern Isles possibly thinks they could get out of a meeting after lunch. "Kristoff got word to the harvesters. They said they would go through with it, but they haven't come back yet. Kristoff says that it is fine, and that they are probably camped out of the mountain, I am a little bit worried though." Anna confides, once again touching on her fear of Marshmallow.

"It is fine. I'm sure it is, I would know if something happened. I would feel it." I assure myself, once more, that Marshmallow is safe to be around and that I will have no hand in a snow monster massacre.

Kasper slides the chair out beside me and slips into place. "Feel what?"

I turn to my plate and devour the food, not pausing for the question and refusing to consider that I might have brought about the terrible force of a large angry snow golem that had been previously content to mill about on remote mountain tops.

"Her connection to Marshmallow." Anna supplies.

Kasper nods; satisfied with the ridiculous answer and the impossible logic. "Ok." He selects a careful array of food and breakfast passes with little consequence. Kristoff wanders in after a time and seats himself beside Anna, greeting her with a quick kiss at her crown. He explains that, if all has gone well, Marshmallow and the ice harvesters should be at the castle within the hour. I thank him. Mother makes a brief appearance, looking haggard, as Anna and Kristoff leave.

She takes what she can carry and then retreats into the halls of the castle, followed by her assigned guard. Kasper sends me a quizzical frown and a raised eyebrow. I offer little explanation in return, knowing that some days are unequivocally bad and that we must simply do what we can to see tomorrow on the good faith that it will be better.

"I should go meet my snowman." I mention, breaking the soft silence that has settled in the room. "He is likely to be confused when he gets here, I don't want him losing control and hurting anyone." I try to ignore the parallel that makes to myself.

Kasper nods. "As long as you don't worry. You promised me you wouldn't worry."

"And I agreed on the condition that you were present to keep me distracted." I am quick to remind Kasper of his promise, quick to find something that will obligate him to me. I do not want to be left to my own devices right now.

We make our way outside and around the castle, followed by a group of guards, aiming for the base of the mountains and the safe space below them. Should a crisis arise I do not want my citizens in close proximity. I worry for a while, while I pace through the lush grass, that something will go terribly wrong; that Ellie is going to be hurt, not just by Marshmallow, by anything. Then I remember that I mustn't be worrying and I worry over how much I do worry and that a way of life in which I am relaxed has begun to feel impossible.

Kasper keeps talking, I know he is trying, that he is trying to keep my mind occupied and that he really only wants to help. I know that he is good and that I should feel safe with him always, but I know, just as well, that I will not.

I nod and mumble when he asks me about the kingdom, then start as I see a shimmer of movement on the mountain side. The trees part and a group of overwhelmed ice harvesters are revealed, trailed closely by a hulking mass of snow and jagged angry ice that I know to be Marshmallow.

The harvesters keep a wide circle of space free around Marshmallow and look to me with frightened mystification.

"My Queen." One of the men steps forward and takes off his hat in a fluid motion. "Beg pardon, ma'am, but, the snowman, might we ask why you need him?" The man is tall and fitted with shoulders broader than I thought possible, but somehow managed to look timid and small with the snow creature milling about behind him.

I nod. "Of course, but, I require discretion," I look to the men pretending not to listen behind him behind him, "from all of you." The collective group nods. "The King and Queen of the Southern Isles have brought a ship, several ships, actually, to Arendelle. They have been threatening us and they have arranged a meeting today. I want to ensure that the nation is safe and believe that he," I motion to Marshmallow, "will help."

The harvester nods thoughtfully. "Ma'am?" He asks again. "If it is not overreaching my boundaries, might I ask, is there to be a war?"

I swallow thickly at the ice harvester's question. "There very well might be, but I am doing everything in my power to stop that and keep everyone safe."

"Is it because of what happened to that man, the one you killed, because surely if someone explained to them everything, all about what happened. I mean, no one here thinks you've done anything wrong; all the folks I've heard talk about it paint him the villain, and with what he did, it sounds about right... Honestly ma'am, if these people insist on fighting, well, I'd enlist to keep you and your little girl safe."

My throat tightens and I blink hard twice to keep myself composed. Kindness from a stranger is not something I am overly accustomed to. Strangers have not been a large part of my life, and when they were they served as wide scared eyes as I put my country on ice. "Thank you." I manage. "I don't want it to come to that, and hopefully it won't, but thank you. Thank you so much."

The harvesters bow their heads and make their way back to their homes, satisfied with their work and with themselves. Marshmallow grows about in the clearing, throwing his fists about but not actually touching anything. I take a quick side glance at Kasper, as he has been remarkably quiet for the last few minutes. He is gawking at the monster.

"Has he scared you off?" I chance a quick halting quip, worried that Kasper might be overwhelmed by this particular snow creation and that he will be frightened off by it.

He has the decency to deny it, "no, not at all," but I know this has startled him. He has seen defensive magic before. He was there as Hans died, watched me as I send a bolt of ice through his heart. This magic is far more aggressively violent though. Hanses death was quick and clean, nothing Marshmallow can do is quick and clean. Any death he brings about, any protecting he does it going to be loud and violent.

"I promise, underneath all that show, he really is a big teddy bear." I step forward toward Marshmallow. He fixes his eyes on me and lets out a confused growl. "I know, I know. I'm sorry I dragged you out of the mountains. I know you like it up there." Another growl, softer this time. "Hey, I promise I'll let you go back the instance this is over, once everyone is safe again, but before that I need you to keep some very important people safe for me, please? Some other people, mean people, want to hurt them."

He screws up his face and forces out a question. "Who?"

"My family, mean people want to hurt my family." I show him Ellie, the girl is mesmerised by him and gurgles as he examines her. "She needs to be safe, no matter what happens, to anyone. Please, can you keep my daughter safe?"

He grows out a gravely yes and lumbers about in a circle around us, separating Ellie and me from and startled Kasper. "No, no, not him." I start, rushing over to get in front of Marshmallow, regretting that I have ever had the slightest pause in trusting Kasper. "He's one of us. He's family. He's safe." I convince Marshmallow and myself. "He won't hurt us."

"I won't." Kasper shouts as he stumbles back and falls down. "I really won't. I promise. I love her, I love Elsa, and Ellie. I won't hurt them."

The snow golem nods and retreats to behind me, observing his soundings.

I rush over to Kasper as he clamours back to his feet. "I'm so sorry. Marshmallow is safe. I promise. He was just trying to read me, trying to work out what I need protecting from."

Kasper nods. "Are you really that worried about me, that scared." He asks quietly.

I wish I was a better liar. I wish that I could tell him I know he would never do anything. "Sometimes. Not always, not right now. Only when I think of other things."

"It's ok." Kasper insists. "I understand. I do." He wraps a arms around my shoulders as a hug and places a quick kiss to my hair, but the way he walks is uneasy. I know it bothers him. He insists that it doesn't but I can see the frustration in his eyes sometimes. Times like now.

"I love you." I offer, looking up at him and meaning it fiercely. "Thank you, for everything you do."

He offers me his crooked smile and I see the cloud of worry fade from his eyes.

* * *

**Let me know what you thought. **

**I'm aiming to have the next chapter out on the 24th. Let's hope that works out. **

**-Whovian123**

**NicPie: Thank you. I don't imagine Kasper is all that comfortable thinking about the details of what happened to Elsa, but, yes, I do think he did good. **

**chinaluv: Thank you. Agreed, they are very cute sometimes. **

**Loridhhp: Thank you. Don't worry about review consistency. I haven't exactly been consistent with much of anything lately. I am also quite a fan of Kasper's lullabies. **

**Aeluna: Thank you. I wouldn't really call Fredrick a good reliable man, but his wife is most definitely the driving force of the threats. I also imagine Kasper catching himself feeling somewhat bitter and frustrated sometimes, not necessarily toward Elsa, but more toward her circumstance. **

**HarmonyForever88: Thank you. She is quite a b*tch. Her husband would be wise to be scared. **

**Resilient-Heart-of-a-Queen: Thank you. I hope you enjoyed the Marshmallow so far, and the Marshmallow that is to come. I expect the Southern Isles are rather overly focuses on Ellie and not fully realizing their situation. **


	99. Chapter 99

**Hi. hope you enjoy. We are getting into the meat of the endgame conflict. Not much more after this. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen. **

* * *

"Absolutely not." I declare. "I have Marshmallow. He will keep me safe. You will stay here, all of you will. You are safest here, with all the guards."

"You cannot expect me to let you leave this castle without any additional guard." Mother counters, her lunch sitting in front of her and growing cold. "You will take as many of the best and most trustworthy guards as I see fit." She asserts, room for negation or questioning seems minimal.

"Ok... fine, if you feel better knowing they are with me, I will bring them. But do not forget I have lost all reservations regarding the freezing of royalty." I remind my mother that I am not without my own means of defense, and that those means far surpass whatever an army could do.

"So, you expect to go, just you and some guards, out to meet these insane people who want to seal away Ellie so much that they would not be above planting a trap to kill you under the pretense of a calm meeting." Anna spells out the ridiculous situation. "No, not at all. I'm going with you."

Kristoff and I both start up a chorus of complaining and additional _absolutely not's_ which Anna is swift to shut down. "No. I am, not a word against it Elsa. I don't care that you're worried. I will be worried about you if you don't let me come. And you cannot go up against a duo like that without someone by your side." I raise my voice in objection. "No, Marshmallow does not count."

"Then I'll go." Kasper speaks up. "I can keep her safe."

"No." Anna and I say at the same time.

"You can't." I add. "For all your dedication to this family you are not yet legally or politically part of it. If any one does go it has to be someone tied to the family, royalty." As I say it I understand why Anna insists on her. For all Kristoff's good qualities, an ice harvester recently married into the royal family holds no sway in the goings on of the country. The foremost choice would be our mother, the only other person alive that has been Queen of Arendelle. I understand Anna insisting she go instead, Mother cannot do any sort of negotiation with members of Hanses family. For all the terrors I suffered in the months he was in Arendelle I know my mother suffered much the same for far longer. Adjusting back to the world has been difficult for her, talking of war and listening to strangers try to take away her first grandchild would not be easy for her.

Before Kasper manages a counter I turn to Anna. "You will do what I say. You will do nothing reckless, and say nothing reckless. You will carry on you a sword and two concealed daggers. You will not, for any reason whatsoever, stray from in-between Marshmallow and I." My mind ranks through the thousands of things that could hurt or kill my sister and how I can stop them from doing just that.

"Of course." Anna nods. "It's dangerous and sensitive, I know that. I understand what needs doing. I won't take unnecessary risks." She assures me that she will be cautious and I believe her, furthermore I believe that she really does understand what needs doing and wish that she would let me in on the secret.

"At least let me take care of Ellie." Kasper insists. "Let me be useful."

"You're all going to take care of her." I nod to my daughter currently perched in my mother's arm. "And you are not to, ever, even for a moment, no matter how brief, let her out of your sight. I do not know what is being planned. Really, I would take her with me if I could convince myself it was safe, but I know that would truly be insane and similar to handing her over."

The three charged with Ellie's care nod gravely.

Some scattered attempts are made at finishing lunch, but largely there is a heavy sort of silence marred by weak attempts at conversation that pervades the hall. Kristoff takes Anna aside as time slides forward, likely to make sure she understands what she has volunteered for and to make her promise, once more expressly to him, that she will be safe.

I eventually abandon my plate and take Ellie back from my mother for a moment, siting the desire for a quick amble through the halls with her. It weighs in my chest that is feels like such a goodbye. I have absolutely no intention of dying today, but I've yet to really be so far from Ellie for any length of time. I do not want to be parted from her, not ever.

She's fussy and displeased in the halls; I try not to take it as a bad omen. I hum the bits of Kasper's lullabies that I can remember and vow to listen better next time, as the little bits hummed calm her down drastically. "You do love music, don't you? Music and stars." I mumble as I place a quick kiss against her forehead. "My little shining star, the center of my world. Oh, the things I would do for you."

I note the time and realize Anna and I must be off if we are to maintain Arendelles reputation for punctuality.

Anna is waiting for me in the dining hall, strapping a small thin knife to the inside of her wrist and making sure it isn't detectable with her sleeve over it. "There better be one more hidden somewhere." I remark, taking note of the sword clipped to her side.

"There is, two more actually, one on the other arm and one on my left ankle." She pats her other wrist. "Glad to see you didn't notice, that means I did it right." She turns round quickly as I pass Ellie off to Kasper. "Also, don't you go thinking you'll get off without any last resorts." Anna smiles as she turns back round holding a gorgeous long sword in her arms."I know you have your magic, but even magic can fail sometimes."

I have no particular inclination toward metal work, it never interested me and I never aspired to collect oriental daggers for any reason. Likewise, weapons in general rub me the wrong way, so I never imagined I would find a hilt and scabbard that would move me like these have. "It's Papa's." I conclude in a moment, realizing why I remember it and why I makes me feel safe as opposed to the usual scared. "Where was it?"

"In the attic." Mother chimes in. "I remember him putting it away before we left, he knew we would be gone for some time and treated it as a sort of victory that he could put it away and be sure he would not need it. It was a time of peace, a period which has not since been broken by open conflict."

"It is even sharp?" I take the weapon gingerly from Anna, half afraid of breaking it and half afraid it will break me.

"I dug it up yesterday," Mother answers again, "on the off chance. I had it sent down to the blacksmith; he checked it for damage and sharpened it. It's primed for whatever may come."

Teeth clamped on my cheek to keep from crying I belt the sword to my waist and let my hand rest comfortably on the worn leather of the hilt, fitting my fingers carefully where, years ago, my fathers had been. "Thank you." I turn to my family. "It isn't war, not yet, but thank you so much."

After that there isn't an excuse to stay. Anna and I need to leave, we assemble our guard and retrieve Marshmallow where he had been milling about with Olaf in the gardens, and then set out across the fjord. The guards are silent and Marshmallow growls ever so often, uncomfortable with the people and the new environment. I promise him quietly that he will be allowed to return to the mountains soon.

As we near the middle of the designated field the King and Queen come into sight, surrounded by many more guards than strictly necessary for a peaceful meeting, their numbers likely surpassing our guard, but not Marshmallow's reach.

The duo does not speak as we come to be settled in front of them, our guard fanning out to meet theirs and Marshmallow stamping at the ground several times. Anna does as she was instructed, keeping careful to center herself between Marshmallow and me, her finders fiddling with the smooth new leather of her own scabbard. Mine work at the think worn stuff.

"You called?" I shatter the silence.

"And you brought a monster." Annette's eyes flick worriedly in Marshmallows direction. I take a moment to enjoy the obvious upper hand we have gained.

"I brought a friend." I counter; my general protectiveness for my snow creatures flaring. "You never said anything about friends." I realize I might be wrong. I never did look at the letter they sent requesting this visit. I was rather tried and trusted the young guard to know enough of the situation to manage.

"Correct. Though, I do doubt that your _friend_is here strictly for moral support." Annette challenges.

"What do you want?"

The vile queen has the audacity to sigh. "You know what I want, do you honestly want to hear me say it again with different words?"

"I want you to give up." I explain. "I want you to hear yourself and know what madness you are proposing." My patience is strained as Annette chuckles. She speaks, I know she does, I can see her mouth moving and hear the noise, but it stays noise. I feel, instead of the world, the whirling storm of winter in my chest.

"You don't want to fight." I hear Anna explain, understand her words in the fog of snow. "What can you do for her? What kind of life would Ellie have with you? Taking her away from her mother would hurt her more than anything. Elsa is good for her. Hans never even wanted her, he wanted a son and was prepared to do the unspeakable if he found out his first born was to be a girl."

Anna seems to have struck a chord. "He wouldn't have. Don't you ever say that about him! He had problems, but he wasn't like that. He wasn't. He wasn't that kind of man. He had good in him."

"Maybe." I find my voice. "Maybe he did. But I never saw it. He was all bad when he was with me. He was terrible when he threatened my parents' lives to get me to marry him. He was foul when he hit me, when he burned me and beat me for doing imagined wrongs. And he was impossibly far from the idea of all things good when he pushed me into motherhood." I set my jaw. "Your Majesty, the choice I should have had was forced on my by your son."

Annette mutters under her breath and ranks her fingers though her hair. "You're lying. You hurt him. He didn't hurt you; he wouldn't hurt people, not like that." She fidgets on her feet and calls her guards to attention.

My heart jumps into my throat as they ready their swords, their eyes regretful, and brace for battle. Surely Annette is not so foolish as to start a fight here, to attack under the guise of a peaceful congregation. I bolt in front of Anna while shouting to my own guards, frantic in my request to have them draw their weapons and take a defensive stance.

"Hold." Fredrick's voice is as piercing and as frantic as my own as he speaks for the first time. His arm is wrapped protectively around the shoulders of his wife, her own arms wrapped around her waist as she is doubled over and muttering quickly. "Lower arms." He demands of his men. They listen and comply eagerly.

"I will not hesitate to tear you personally limb from limb if you attack me after promising peace." I am aggressive and angry now. I should not have trusted them. I was foolish and naive to have trusted a family that has never once been kind of honest. "And the same will happen if you make another claim at my daughter."

"She's going to come back with us. This I promise." Annette spits out, straightening up and violently shoving away her husband's arm. "Consider today the formal declaration of war, tomorrow the fighting begins, we will call forth all our alliances and over the months build a force to destroy your country."

Marshmallow, who had been stomping around and massively uncomfortable since setting foot in the field, lets out a tree quaking roar in reply to the declaration.

The agitated duo leave at this, not equipped to combat the unexpected Marshmallow.

"Elsa." Anna brings me back to the world with the gravity of her voice. "This isn't good. This is bad, this is very bad." She steps out from behind me and I see that she had drawn the dagger from her left sleeve.

"Bad." Marshmallow reiterates.

"Yes." I mumble, bile and terror rising in my throat. "Bad, very bad."

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed it. Don't forget to review and let me know what you thought. **

**Next chapter will, hopefully, be up on the 27th. **

**-Whovan123**


	100. Chapter 100

**Hello. Might I just say very quickly. Oh my god. Chapter 100 and review 500 happened in the same week. This is insane.**

**Honestly, I just can't believe it. **

**Thank you all of you for being so massively amazing. **

**-Whovian123**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen**

* * *

"Will they wait until tomorrow?" Anna breaks the dreadful silence of the walk back. "Can we trust them?"

"I don't know." I haven't truly considered it yet. My inclination is to accept what they tell me. I want to believe that if they cannot be good and kind that they can at least be honest, but I would not bet the lives that could be lost on it. "We should move forward as if an attack could begin at any moment. Post guards everywhere and have them rotating always."

I regret that I could not maintain my father's time of peace. Under my clumsy reign the country has fallen into war and chaos and it is my fault. My focus becomes breathing, it keeps me from thinking and I cannot afford to think without the calm heads that are waiting for us in the castle.

Marshmallow lumbers behind us, having realized that he will not be returning to the mountains for some time he has taken on a grumpy disposition that I cannot blame him for.

As we pass through the gardens and the great double doors the air of anxiety heightens. Anna takes to meaningless comments about this and that, anything to fill the silence, something she cannot stand in the face of adversity. I let her cope; I am not one to question coping methods, or to take them from people. My own past method of total isolation would leave me looking hypocritical.

"It's going to be ok." I assure her as she runs out of things to say and becomes more frantic in her babbling. "I promise. I know I promise that a lot, that everything will be ok, but now that it looks less ok, I want you to know that it will be ok, in the end. It's just a word, nothing big has happened yet. They only said the word."

"We have Marshmallow, right." Anna tallies our ice related advantages. "And you."

I chuckle and let out a slight puff of frost as I do. "I'll sink their ships in a heartbeat to keep you all safe."

"I know." Anna throws her arms around me without warning and I stumble. "You threw yourself in front of me, I saw you. You put yourself in front of others, metaphorically and physically, you always do."

I return the hug with gusto.

"Thank you." I mutter quietly into her shoulder, not intending for her to hear, simply relishing in the moment of a hidden face and the kind of hug that leaves your heart hurting and your heat light.

She takes my hand, heedless of the ice about it, and we walk through the remaining halls in silence.

We are told they are in the library. Guards outside the dining hall tell us they grew anxious and worried within minutes of us departing and retreated to the library, giving orders to be left alone unless there was news pertaining to us. We make our way toward the library.

The door is dripping with guards, far more than could effectively guard such a small wooden door. I allow a slight smile at the sight and at how precisely my orders were carried out. If nothing else I am in control of my castle.

Nodding to the guards we brave the reactions of our family. As we enter Anna drops my hand and runs to Kristoff. I zero in on the bundle in Kaspers arms and reclaim my daughter, a strangled sob creeping up my throat and surprising me. "War." I manage and then promptly dissolve into a mute gasping mess as the sight of my daughter's face, innocent and asleep.

Anna carries on for me. "They declared war. Elsa mentioned what he, Hans, did, and Annette lost it. She had her men draw their weapons; she was going to attack us. She's crazy. Honestly crazy."

"But she didn't attack?" Mother worries, tearing Anna out of her husband's arms and scanning her for hidden cuts and scrapes.

"No. Her husband stopped her. He's almost sane."

"We can't let this go any further." Mother turns to me, her eyes wild and her tone dark. "You have to do something, something big. They have to be stopped. We cannot allow proper war to break out. Right now it is only a declaration; war doesn't start until someone dies. Don't let anyone die."

"I'll freeze the fjord." I realize that my mother is right, that small things have not been helping and that these people respond only to large aggressive actions. "Tonight, after the fishermen have come back in, I'll do down to the shore, and I'll freeze it, put a layer of ice over it and block their ships in. It will scare them; hopefully it will scare some sense into them."

The general consensus is a somber nod.

Kasper comes to stand beside me, his hand at my shoulder and a question on his face. "I'm ok." I mutter before he can ask me if I am. "I'm fine. It's all fine. Everything is going to be fine." He looks rather unconvinced.

"Let's just have dinner." I suggest somewhat aggressively to the room at large. "We carry on. Dinner is next. Let's go to dinner." I turn and leave, not quiet caring who is behind me, not all the certain that I will even end up at the dining hall; it is still several hours before dinner.

Some part of me realizes that I am running away again, that my chosen method of coping has always been running and receding from people. I ignore the part of me that realizes and mocks this. Instead I continue.

After an unfocused and particularly winding time through the halls I end up in a great room lined with paintings. I spy a couch at the wall and head towards it. Sitting and thinking, or trying my best not to think too much, sounds like a plan. Ellie disagrees and starts squirming and wriggling to the best of her ability.

"You wouldn't like it either," I complain, "not if you knew what was going on." She glares up disdainfully, shaming my shame. "I don't want to use it to fight, or even freeze the fjord. I don't want to need it for something like this. I don't want to hurt anyone with it. I'm still afraid it will hurt people."

I rest my back against the cushions of the couch and breathe into it, relaxing and yielding to it. "I know it's necessary, of course I do." Ellie's insistent silence leaves my guilt to fester. "That's why I'm going to do it. It might stop everything. Maybe, if Fredrick could just… stop her. She just won't see it."

Ellie squints her eyes at me and waves her fist about. "If they weren't like this I wouldn't have minded so much, if they wanted a part of your life, the chance to know you and have you know them. As it stands I never want you to remember them."

"I shouldn't be here, should I?" Ellie mashes her mouth open and closed in earnest imitation of me. "I should be with them, they don't like it when I go off on my own and feel sad. But I'm not sure I'm sad. I am a little bit panicky, but mostly I just feel like I've failed."

I look up at the ceiling as I let Ellie mull over that particular revelation. "I wish you could have known your grandfather." I state inexplicably, my longing for the meeting doing nothing to help anyone in anyway. "He was really very special, and I don't want to be the one to undo all he did for this county, for your country. And I don't want to leave you with a nation in shambles. I want a legacy worth being proud of… I want you to be proud of me."

I look down to Ellie and see that she is watching me again. "I don't deserve you. You're too perfect for me. And I feel guilty and wrong and unworthy for having ever not wanted you." The words catch in my throat.

Ellie continues watching me, baffled and confused by my tears. She looks uncomfortable and scared and with little warning sucks in the long breath of air that I know to be the precursor to a fit of screaming and crying. Instinctually, through the blur of my tears, I comfort her. I coo and promise her the world, everything in it, anything she might ever want. I promise to always love her, no matter what, and that maybe someday I will make up for not being enough.

She listens.

She doesn't cry and instead looks up at me again, eyes wide and confused but desperately trying to work out what is happening, much like myself.

"I expect it is actually coming up for dinner now. I best go apologize to everyone now." Ellie nods senselessly at me while I let her know of the time. We leave the hall of paintings quietly, Ellie watching each portrait carefully as we pass them.

Embarrassed I slink quietly into my seat at dinner, mortified to find that everyone is waiting for me. They glance at me and check on me as we eat, pretending to be focused on their food, or their stilted conversations with each other.

It doesn't end with dinner. They continue watching me, waiting for me to break down or explode; waiting for me to become more of a problem. I resent them for a flash then remember that they want the best for me and that I would be a great fool to resent any of the things they do.

Anna suggests that we wait well into the night before the fjords are frozen. The general response is mumbled agreement. Not all that much happens after that. Kasper hovers by my side, afraid to attempt comfort but reluctant to leave me to my own devices. Mother is much the same.

I realize that thirteen years did not make me a people person and suspect that alone time is something I may come to crave.

I keep to myself and watch the sun set, contented to wait for my moment, my chance to regain control over this aspect of my life and keep my daughter safe, even if it is just a passive non-violent display.

"It looks about dark enough." Kasper approaches me, weary of how I may respond.

"I shouldn't have run off earlier." I apologize. "I run from my problems and my feelings, any feelings, not just the fluffy love ones. I slip back into old habits and assume that anything might set me off, and that I might hurt someone, even without thinking it I just want to run. I'm sorry about that. You shouldn't have to deal with that."

"It's not so bad." Kasper wraps a hand around my waist and I love that he does not hesitate, not even after having just listened to me talk about hurting people with my magic. I lean into his side and take a long slow moment to appreciate the exquisite warmth coming from his heart.

"It is dark enough." I note the twinkling of the stars and the close attention Ellie is giving them. "Will you watch her? I don't want her out there in the middle of the night." I motion to Ellie.

"No way." Kasper points over his shoulder toward Anna and Kasper. "Give them a little bit of practice and let them take her for an hour. I'm going down there with you. You don't get to do two dangerous things today without me."

"Are you sure? You don't have to do stuff like this, really. I don't mind you staying here with Ellie; it keeps you out of harm's way."

"And don't you think I wish I could do the same with you." He counters.

"Lock me away somewhere safe? That was my life for the last thirteen years. It's no fun at all."

"Does that mean I get to go with you?"

"I suppose."

* * *

**Hope you liked it. **

**Next chapter will be out on the 2nd. **

**-Whovian123**


	101. Chapter 101

**I have somewhat reasonably excuses for my terrible lateness this time around. There was a storm where I live and the power was knocked out several times, then the fan fiction website itself was down, and then I got a new computer (which is awesome, yes) but took hella time to set up and upgrade away from windows 8. **

**Sorry.**

**EDIT: Sorry, I forgot to mention, no, Anna is not pregnant. I think I might have given the wrong impression last chapter based off of a reaction in a review.**

**-Whovian123**

* * *

Anna is all too happy to watch Ellie. Ellie herself fusses about and decides to start wailing as Kasper and I try to leave quietly without her knowing. Anna waves us on and I try to ignore the voice in my head that demands I return for my daughter.

She is fine with Anna.

We steal quietly through the castle, having neglected to take a guard in favour of speed and stealth. I am, for the moment, confident in my ability to protect myself, and I refuse to overthink it and send myself into an all too frequent fit of worry.

Kasper's feet crunch softly in the gravel of the roads, his eyes are bright and he surveys the land around us. I stay close to him and he keeps an arm secure around my shoulders. We trade the gravel for soft earth underfoot as we stray from the road and make for, in a terribly round about fashion, the fjords.

Soil turns to small smooth flat pebbles and the tang of salt lets us know that we are close and that we must be getting down to business and back to the castle before anyone realizes that an anomaly of such grandeur has occurred.

"Nervous?" Kasper whispers against my ear.

"No, I don't think so." I surprise myself with the smooth ease in which my feet step to the edge of the ebbing water, the calmness of my hands as they spread wide and dip down to break the surface of the water, and the marvelous sanity of complete rightness and contented power and control that swells in my chest as ice pours from my fingertips and pools in a growing circle in the fjord. The cool flat surface spikes and swirls as it grows and stretches, taking on shapes and then bringing them to be flat and part of a whole once more as they are overtaken by the core of it, the thickest part of the ice that keeps stretching and consumes the entire fjord in minutes. The ice edges the entirety of the shore and inches its way across the pebbles and up the trunks of trees.

With a shuddering breath and a shaking flick of my wrist I end the spell that ice casts on my world and stand back firmly on my feet. It's too dark to see it, but I know it is there, my eyes can tell it in the way the moon and the stars are reflected, and my soul can feel it in the way I am tied to the winter and the ice.

"Did it work?" Kasper breaks the serene stillness of the night. "Have you done it?"

I nod, and then realize that Kasper cannot see me so far from the shore. I return to him by the tree line and bring his hand quietly to the icy bark as way of explanation, not willing to add more noise to the quiet. Sensing that the silence is more crucial and important than speaking, Kasper nods against my head, his cheek brushing mine and his modest beard scratching the line of my jaw.

His hand comes to my cheek and rests there, relaxed and inquisitive, as if to ask me if I think it will work. I pull him closer and burry my face in the familiar warmth and smell of him as way of telling him that I am hoping for the best.

We wait a short while, not long enough for anyone to worry, but long enough to feel as if we have been able to breathe for a while. It is nice, wonderfully so. I can hear his heart beating and I know that mine is beating with it, matching his thump for thump.

"You are amazing." Kasper breaks the spell of the silence. "I don't tell you enough, I've never stopped to tell you that you still look beautiful, that you are perfect, scars and all. I keep it in, imagine that you already know it with how plain it is too me. You must see what a strong ruler you are, the boiling spirit that keeps you alive and afloat in the face of everything that have ever tried to break you." Kasper plows on, determined to say what he needs to and to make it more perfect than the quiet. "You're the perfect mother, the best there is. You don't know it, you can't see it and I wish you could. You are good with her, you are so strong, she loves you so much and you love her. I have never in my life seen a person that loves another person so perfectly like that. And I am startled, and humbled that you have let me be a part of this, because the two of you are perfect and graciously generous letting some stumbling and stuttering fool like me be part of it."

I grind my teeth and tug at Kaspers back, digging my fingers into the cotton of his shirt and feeling it against my cheek. I know I cannot speak, my throat has swelled shut with emotion and my mind is scattered, focused instead on Kaspers voice.

Surprising myself again I find my voice. "In the midst of it, when Hans was here and he had me at my lowest, a tried to imagine what future I would have. I couldn't- there was just… nothing. My life was nothing more than the months it would take to bear a son and then I was dead, leaving the world nothing but a whispered name and a son that would grow up to do the things his father had done to me." My hand curls shut and balls to a fist against Kaspers tense back. "He would have killed her, he would have killed Ellie and not even thought about it. I hadn't let myself remember, hadn't dared think about what he would have done if he were still here. I regretted taking his life. I was tortured by it and would have accepted his surrender to save my soul. But, remembering that, remembering that he would have killed my beautiful innocent daughter in her sleep, I'm glad he died, glad it was me that killed him."

Kasper does not say anything as I cry. Instead he sings. I don't understand the words and the tune is something I have never heard, but it serves to be a soothing as if it were my mother's own voice.

I collect myself and smile into the darkness, knowing that it is for no one's benefit.

"Well then, it's done, nothing but waiting left I suppose, shall we return to the castle?" I ask, taking Kasper's hand from my cheek and securing it firmly in my own. "Because I would rather like to see Ellie and I suspect Anna will be glad to be free of her."

"I expect you are right." I hear the smile in Kaspers voice. "She's an optimistic one; we wouldn't want her spirit to be broken by all the crying."

I bat at his chest with my free hand and stifle a small laugh.

Together and far slower than strictly necessary we make our way back to the castle. As the vaguely suggested outlines of the castle walls come into view we quicken our pace over the predictable and easily navigable cobblestone. Eager to be inside our walls and await whatever mayhem may arise in the morning.

As Kasper suspected Anna is rather thinly drawn upon our return, all too quickly handing Ellie off to me as I walk through the door. "She hasn't stopped crying. I thought it would be easy to quiet her down, we all did." She throws a wild hand behind her shoulder to point at Kristoff and our mother. "But she's persistent, she's so persistent."

I smile empathetically at Anna's distress and tell her that it is not a problem. Ellie interrupts us by letting out a particularly loud wail and battering at the air with tiny clenched fists. After a moment of trying to calm her down myself I surrender and abandon all hope of explaining to the assembled company that my mission was a success. I leave Kasper to do the explaining and duck swiftly out into the hallway.

Ellie ignores my several feeble attempts at soothing and continues her distressed serenade. After I pull open the drapes in my room and let the moon and the stars pour into the dim room she quiets somewhat, and after I have dressed down for the night and taken her once more into my arms she struggles to keep her eyes open as the cause of her unpleasantness, a deep-seated child's tiredness, comes to the surface.

"Just what I thought." I mumble to myself and Ellie. "Tired and cranky. I know it's not pleasant, but was if really cause to stress your aunt so much. You might have turned her off of children, and don't you want cousins to play with?"

Ellie quiets slowly as I talk, coming to realize that my mouth is moving and that sounds she does not understand are coming out of it. After I have said my piece she waits for a moment, and then seeing that I am not going to talk anymore, restarts her fantastic screaming.

"All right all right. Hush you." I sigh, rocking my daughter on the balls of my feet and smoothing her wild hair. "I'll keep talking if you want me to. I guess you don't mind my voice. That's nice. I don't mind yours either, when you aren't screaming that is. I actually don't mind anything about you, but that's mothers bias I suppose."

Ellie's eyes squeezed shut and her mouth stretches out in a spectacular yawn for one so small. I smile down at her and maintain the fluid rocking of my arms. "I must ask Kasper to teach me one of those songs. They work so well."

My bare feet pad along the smooth wood floors as I circle the room slowly, keeping Ellie moving and keeping myself busy while I talk softly and wait for her to fall asleep. "You like him, don't you?" Ellie blinks lazily at me as chatter on about Kasper, remembering the complements he paid me and regretting that I did not pay them back. "I like him, I like him a lot. I love him, actually…. I really hope you like him, that he isn't ever a problem for you, because I know he loves us. It's strange and it happened fast, but we managed a sort of family between the three of us. I hope you never resent him for that. And I hope that you don't mind that I call him your father."

Looking back down at my splendidly quiet daughter I see that she has fallen asleep. Letting out a silent victory cry I crawl quietly into bed, deciding against the jostling of putting Ellie in her crib and letting her sleep in my arms instead.

I don't manage sleep as simply as her, my shoulders ache and my back protests against movement as slight as breathing. I have worn myself out. Appreciating that the forced habit of open drapes gives me a magnificent view from my bed, I turn to my side and take a deep breath and sink into the mattress.

Sending quiet wishes out into the night I plead with the world and all within it to let Annette see reason when she wakes up and to understand that further acts of violence will only serve to seal her fate. I shudder as the darker part of my mind, the part I shoved firmly away in the wake of Hanses death, contemplates an eventuality in which I have to kill her. The world in which she never realizes that her want for my daughter is futile and that the only freedom for us is to take her life.

My arms circle tighter around Ellie and I press a kiss to her forehead, whispering quietly that she is safe and that she is fine. Then finally succumbing to sleep myself.

* * *

**Let me know what you thought, the good, the bad, and the ugly. **

**Let's hope I actually manage an update on the 11th. **

**-Whovian123**


End file.
